Holistic
by Amelia St.Claire
Summary: An unwilling and indefinite addition to Hydra, physician Lorelai Hellman is finding that the base she's being held at is anything but a safe working environment. So it's to her surprise that the man she's assigned to care for and should probably fear the most, the man with the damaged memory and metal arm, is the only person keeping her from giving up just yet.
1. Tricks

This day in Washington D.C. was not unlike others in recent memory. It was a cloudless, pleasant, February day, and the mild weather at the end of a long winter was drawing residents from all over the city out of their homes and onto the streets for the first time in a long while. But the day was nothing particularly special. The 650,000 who lived were all going about their own lives just as they always had, doing what they loved, what they hated, celebrating their old traditions and starting new ones, having mundane moments, and life changing ones.

Washington D.C. was a vibrant metropolis of culture, of history, of passion, of color, of life. A place of old and new. A city of secrets.

Nobody knew that better than Alexander Pierce.

The scotch in his hand was a necessary way to start his morning. Both of the lives he led, one as the esteemed Secretary of the World Security Council and the other as one of Hydra's top undercover agents, took much out of him, and the gentle buzz of a morning liquor always seemed to take the edge off for his day to come.

His view from the Triskelion was something to be envied. With a stunning view of the Potomac and views of the city skyline in the distance, he could stare out the windows of his office for hours and watch time go by. But that wasn't his mission in this life, to let the world pass him. He was going to create a new world, a world of order where its people were free of their own freedom. He was going to tear this world down and make a new one, no matter the cost...

There was a knock on the door behind him, drawing him from his deepening thoughts.

"Come in," he called to the person on the other side of his door, his back still towards the entrance.

The handle was turned, and in walked in the click of stiletto heels on the marble floor of the office. The woman who entered was smartly dressed in her business best, holding a clipboard and portable daily planner at her side as she walked a few paces into the room. While the secretary didn't enter the room with hesitancy, she did so cautiously, making certain that her boss wasn't preoccupied.

She didn't know what the reason was, but even after a few years of working with Shield and their aloof agents, her current boss always made her uneasy. She couldn't find an exact reason, because he was always courteous and professional, but to her there was something… off. Something she couldn't put into words. And it didn't help that one of her least favorite agents, who was one of the biggest tools in the business, was one of his most frequent visitors, and even now was currently waiting to enter the room. She mentally sighed. _Why couldn't Captain America come around here more often..._

Pushing these thoughts away, she swallowed these feeling as she always did and spoke up.

"Mr. Pierce, Agent Rumlow is here to see you."

The distant man didn't turn around to respond to his secretary, and instead opted to continue his unwavering stare of the world outside his window.

"Send him in, Rachel, thank you," he directed her, and with a nod he couldn't see, she did just that.

A new pair of shoes entered the room, pounding on the floor as they began to walk towards the center of the room, closer to Pierce. The door closed, and the sound of combat boots stopped after a few heavy paces.

"Sir," the roughened agent greeted the suited man calmly, standing a good couple feet behind him.

Finally, Pierce took his eyes off the outside world, and turned to face the agent who had just arrived.

"Brock," the Secretary answered, his tone matching Rumlow's. He strolled over to his desk, reached into a drawer, and pulled out his Scotch bottle, refilling his own glass just a little bit more "Can I offer you a drink?"

The visiting agent was dressed in his normal, battle ready grab, a weapon very conspicuously resting at his side, able to be easily accessed whenever necessary. His rigid, on-edge posture, his sculpted face that held a permanent scowl, and eyes analyzing every corner of the room would have made any regular civilian cringe with discomfort; but for those in Hydra, this was the normal appearance of many of the men they worked. It didn't phase Pierce in the slightest. This agent, like many others, never seemed to be off his guard, which in this business was a good thing.

"No thanks."

There were a few moments of silence that passed between the two, neither of the Hydra agents willing to fill it with small talk. Rumlow was almost relieved when the Secretary began to get straight to the point.

"So tell me, Brock." Pierce quickly downed the last swig of his drink and placed the empty glass on his desk. "How is he doing?"

Rumlow subconsciously straightened his posture ever so slightly. This was his business for being there today, the reason Pierce had summoned him. The Winter Soldier had just been awaken.

"Agent Bailey was once again able to successfully remove the Asset from the chamber without any difficulties," the agent reported swiftly. "We began the routine procedures to warm him two days ago, and yesterday he was completely removed from the ice. His vital signs began to rise yesterday afternoon, and he regained consciousness around one this morning."

Pierce nodded in approval. What Brock reported was that of what he should be. Nothing was out of place, nothing was strange.

"What of his mental state?"

"He was disoriented for the first hour, but was able to recollect his purpose after that time. He has already been started on his normal cycle of medications. Physically, he's still regaining the use of his limbs, but he should be fully functioning in less than 24 hours."

"Is he compliant?"

Rumlow nodded. The Asset was being obedient, as he always had.

"Good," Pierce answered casually, as if he was happy the weather was getting warmer. "Continue to update me. Alert me if he should begin to… backtrack. We'll take the necessary actions if needed."

The agent nodded in agreement. While it didn't happen often, he knew the procedure if the Asset were to start remembering again.

Rumlow began to retreat and walk back towards the door he came through. This was usually where their conversation ended, allowing him to get back to his daily business.

"Before you leave, Brock, there is one thing I'd like you to oversee." The agent paused and turned to once again face the man in charge. He raised a brow in question. "Because of Dr. Turk's recent… departure, I believe it's time we bring in our new physician."

He understood the request. They had talked on this subject before. "Immediately?"

Pierce smirked brightly.

"Immediately."

* * *

"Tell me a story. I wanna hear something good."

"Shouldn't a linguist know that 'wanna' isn't proper English grammar?"

"I'm off the clock."

On the other end of the city, much less malicious topics were being discussed. As two Hydra agents plotted and schemed to create their new world order, two women were executing their own plans; a standing Monday lunch date that the two had been carrying out for years now.

The doctor at the table laughed, taking a bite of her sandwich as her best friend continued to demand thrilling tales out of her.

"What makes you think I have a story this week?" she questioned, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You _always_ have a story," the linguist asserted. She pointed her fork at the woman in front of her. "Come on, cough it up. I love hearing the weird shit you get to do at work; gets me through the week knowing one of us loves her job."

"While we're eating?" the other jested, feigning surprise as she did so. She knew very well how much her friend loved hearing about her adventures in the emergency room. She just loved to draw out the woman's pleading for her own enjoyment.

"Langley, make me laugh," the woman begged of her friend.

Who was Lorelai Hellman to deny her friend such a request?

This was how the two women's Mondays had gone for about two years now, the childhood friends sharing a meal together and talking about their exploits of the week, Lorelai's in the ER of Benjamin Franklin University Hospital as an emergency physician, and Greta's as a linguist working for a language learning software company. Every week Greta Kohlberg, who believed Lorelai had the more exciting career of the two of them, would probe her for the wicked events that took place in her workplace. She did it out of morbid curiosity, and for the shock factor she wished to subject herself to.

Lorelai, or to Greta, Langley, as she had called her since they were young, finally 'gave in', a smile warming her face.

"Okay, okay," she relented with a chuckle, putting down her food and probing her mind for a tale from this week to share. "Oh, here's kind of funny one; a family with a couple of kids were playing Avengers in their backyard, and 'Captain America' threw his 'shield' at his dad so hard it knocked him out." Greta's mouth gaped as she listened intently, a single horrified chuckle leaving her throat.

"What was the shield?" Greta asked curiously, wondering what could do that much damage.

"A metal, trash can lid, the heavy ones that keep raccoons out," Lorelai clarified. Greta gasped then, cringing as those she had just witnessed the episode herself.

"Was he okay?"

"Yeah, for the most part, though he did have a good sized laceration on his forehead and a mild concussion. But he was a good sport about it; he told his son the Cap would be proud at his arm."

Greta shook her head at the father's good nature, smiling as she did so.

"Sounds like my dad," she admitted, a laugh bubbling to her lips when she imagined her own father's reaction. "Remember when I hit a line drive into his shin during softball practice? He couldn't walk right for a week, but he told everyone the reason why with a lot of gusto."

Lorelai nodded happily, remembering the event very clearly. The two had been on the same team for much of their elementary and middle school years, as with many more of their after school activities. They were Greta and Lorelai, the inseparable pair.

"I do, I do," the physician said with a snort. "I remember him hobbling the benches with tears in his eyes he was in so much pain, but he's going, 'Yes Greta! That's how you do it! Just like that!'"

The linguist chuckled and then sighed contently.

"Good old, dad," Greta said fondly, effectively ending the conversation. "What else?"

"What else, let's see… Oh, Thursday a twenty something kid came in with severe abdominal pains, so we took an x-ray of his stomach. Turns out he had been high the night before and ate almost half a roll of _quarters_ thinking they were Necco wafers."

Greta's face contorted in horror. "Oh my god, that's gross!"

"I know, don't you think you would realize eventually-"

"No, I mean who eats Necco wafers anymore?" Greta clarified. "Those things are terrible, no wonder he didn't know the difference." Her friend at the table roll her eyes. "What do you even do? Do they... _pass_?"

She nodded her head.

"Oh, they pass," she clarified. "But there were so many of them we had to keep monitoring his intestines for blockages. He was lucky nothing got stuck, but either way they don't come out pleasantly."

"How big was the roll?"

Lorelai gave her friend an exasperated look.

"Really? Does it matter? The man ingested currency, isn't that enough of a wow factor for you?"

"Well you said it was almost half a roll, right? Well how big was what the roll? If it was a five dollar roll that's only…" She paused for a moment, performing the math in her head. "10, 10 coins. Which is an impressive amount itself, but still, the shock factor behind 'half of a roll' depends on how much the roll is worth."

"There were 17 coins that were retrieved from his excrement. He swallowed half a roll of 10 dollars worth of quarters."

"See! Now that sounds really bad!"

Lorelai decided to end the conversation there. While she wasn't a squeamish person in the slightly (her career path said at least that much about her), she didn't want to discuss bowel movements as she ate the rest of her sandwich.

Bloody horrors on the other hand...

"That same night, oh god, you will _never_ believe what this guy got his foot stuck in…"

The afternoon would continue like this, the two sharing stories, laughing, and mentally preparing themselves for the week ahead of them. While both of the women had off from work on Mondays, they would both have full and busy days at their places of employment the next day. They loved their weekly get togethers, and they enjoyed the time they were able to have to privately talk the way only best friends of many years could. For a few hours every start of the week, they seemed to laugh like carefree kids again.

But what the two women had no way of knowing was that their giddy talks and laughter weren't as private as they thought.

They were being watched.

A few tables away from the friends sat a man and a woman, both dressed conservatively and dully as they quietly drank their beverages. The two were seated across from one another, and any passerby may have thought them to be a couple, if at least distant, sharing a meal together. The woman looked to be occupied with her phone in her hand, the man occupied with the newspaper spread out on the table before him. But what no one at the restaurant could have realized was that in reality, they were both listening very intently to the conversation taking place near them.

Neither of the two Hydra agents had made a sound for a very long while, having been here about the same timeframe as the women. They had followed the doctor from her home to this location, as they did with many of the places she went. All that could be heard between them was some light breathing before the man's phone suddenly began to ring in his pocket.

They shared a brief glance. One phone call could set anything in action.

He reached into his pocket, retrieved the device, and answered.

"Dawkins."

The person on the other end kept the message short, but most certainly not sweet. The one sided conversation was completed in less than 10 seconds, and the caller hung up the line before the agent in the restaurant had spoken another word. When the line went dead he closed his own phone as well.

The woman gave him a questioning look.

"Rumlow. The extraction is tomorrow."

The agent nodded once. Taking a sip of her coffee, she resumed discreetly watching the target once more.

* * *

"I'm clocking _out_ ," Dr. Hellman announced joyfully, elated to finally be off duty at the hospital. The exhaustion of the Tuesday, 12 hour shift she had just completed was lifted for a moment now that she was actually able to leave the building, but she could still feel the amount of hours she put in today weighting on her physically and mentally. While she loved her career tremendously, she would appreciate a shorter time she had to work it in a day's time.

"Well good for _you,_ " the nurse at the front desk mocked her, removing neither her eyes nor her hands from the computer screen and keyboard she was manning. "I on the other hand have four more hours worth of changing bandages and making sure Dr. Taft doesn't screw up anyone's medication dosages."

Lorelai smirked at her coworker mischievously, letting her bag go to the floor and leaning playfully over the desk, her chin resting over her crossed arms on the surface.

"Oh, think of it this way, Lydia," Lorelai said cheekily. "Now you can have a pleasant evening with Dr. Jackson. I mean you enjoy his company _so much._ "

The head nurse huffed in disgust, the thought of the man she despised so much sending a ripple down her spine. She shook her head and exhaled sharply. "Yeah, more like Dr. Jack _ass._ " Sending the email she had been working on, the elder woman in the chair removed her reading glasses and looked up at the physician with a fire in her eyes that only Jackson could bring out in her. "Did I tell you he started scolding me yesterday when a patient had a reaction to penicillin? Even after I had reminded him earlier about this man's allergy? That hollow skull of his wasn't listening to me, administered it, and almost had the man seriously injured."

Lorelai's mouth gaped in shock. Such incompetency was completely unprofessional, dangerous, and just plain irresponsible. She and everyone else in the hospital expect much more of their medical personnel, and this was an inexcusable move, even for Jackson.

" _Noo…_ What did you do?"

"What do you think I did?" she huffed, her voice and attitude raising. "I gave it right back to him! I went off on him in front of the entire night staff and patients, I didn't care one bit. And as of ten seconds ago, I have a meeting with my supervisor and I'm going to report him. I emailed her the hour it happened, and she just got back to me with a time. I hope whatever they do to him will be severe. Lord help me I don't stick him with something contaminated beforehand."

Lorelai laughed, standing up straighter now. "Now now, Lydia, you took a pledge. Nothing 'evil or malicious.'"

"I consider that more of a public service than a malicious act." The physician laughed once more, not entirely disagreeing. "So do you have any plans for the night? Hot date?"

"Well, considering it's 10pm and I smell _very_ strongly of disinfectant, the only plans I have are with my two favorite men, Stearns and Foster."

Lydia laughed loudly at the joke, nodding her head in approval. She had been working at Benjamin Franklin long enough to know countless nights where she would forgo events or dates in favor of a good night's sleep. While their positions were different, their goals and their ideals weren't, and Lydia saw much of herself in the younger woman. That, along with Lorelai being one of the few physicians during her shift that didn't treat the nurses snobbishly and was a pleasure to be around, the coworkers developed a friendship over the two years she was working there.

"Then I'm holding you up from a good night," she said when she recovered herself. "You go, enjoy what's left of your evening."

Bending over to retrieve her bag, Lorelai grinned with pleasure as she slung the bag over her shoulder.

"Sounds good to me," she replied happily. "Thanks, Lyd, I'll see you tomorrow night."

"See ya, Lore."

With that, the physician stepped out the front doors into the cold February air.

Lorelai's apartment was a near the center of the city; it was a shoebox sized space with one bedroom, very few amenities, and bare walls she had yet to fill, even after almost two years living there. While it was hardly anything to brag about, its close proximity to the monuments made the price of her abode an almost unreasonable amount. Yet it was the cheapest unreasonable apartment she could find that still gave her everything on her very short must have list; accessibility to the hospital, heating, working plumbing, no infestations. She was glad she had these things, because she didn't have much else from what was on the list. She needed to do laundry at a local laundromat because she was lacking a washer and dryer, and she had no dishwasher; all her seasonal boxes were kept in her living room, being that there wasn't any space to store anything; the air conditioner attached to the wall broke about two tenants ago.

Her paycheck from the hospital was nothing to sneeze at; however, paying off her mountainous student loans was her first priority, and she would stay in a less than glamorous space for a while longer if it meant she could continue to make larger payments on her debt. She didn't mind it too much anyway; she had four walls, a roof that kept her dry, a small kitchen that had just what she needed, and neighbors that only got loud _sometimes._ All things considered, she could have gotten a lot worse in the city.

The doctor did have a car, a 2004 Silver Honda Accord that was a gift to her from her brother. However, she wasn't a fan of driving in DC and all its traffic, so she took advantage of all the public transportation the city had to offer. She typically took the DC metro the most, enjoying the simplicity and reliability of the rails. There was a metro station about two blocks from the hospital that she used every time she came into work, and with only one transfer, she could end up back home to the station that was just a block from her apartment. So she set off in the familiar direction, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered against the chill of the night. The warmer weather of the day before already seemed like a distant memory.

The metro sign was soon coming into view on the quiet street, only a single break in the sidewalk separating her with the staircase that would take her underground. Taking a quick glance to make sure she was in the clear, she began to cross the street. At this rate she'd be home in half an hour, where she could take a decadently hot shower and crawl into bed for ten hours or more. She could almost feel the sheets covering her warmly-

 _"HELP!"_

Lorelai's footing faltered mid step, almost tripping over herself as she jolted at the cry behind her. She whipped around, her head darting back and forth to try and locate the source of the cries, finding nothing at first. She started to quickly retrace her steps, desperately searching for anything out of place, but seeing nothing.

"Hello?" she called loudly, hoping the person would make themselves known once more. " _Hello!"_

 _"HELP!"_

The cry was louder, closer this time, and was most definitely coming from where she just want passed by. She saw no one on the road directly in front of her, but there was an intersection a couple feet away where another street began around the corner. She suspected whatever was happening was happening there. She hadn't noticed anything when she walked by previously, but that didn't mean much; in a city like DC, people were always coming and going.

Suddenly, her suspicions were confirmed when the person seeking help turned the corner running, his strides wide and powerful. He was a large, well built man who was dressed in casual but warm clothing, and his short black hair was spiked in the front slightly, though it was very disarrayed at the moment. His strong face was contorted in concern and panic, his breathing was heavy, and he looked all around distressed.

"Please, please help!" he was yelling in a frenzy, stopping himself just a foot short of barreling into her like a train. He began to spit out the situation in a hurry, his words jumbling together and being repeated. "My friend- my friend he, he just collapsed and he won't get up, I can't wake him up!"

"Sir, calm down," Lorelai began, her clinical persona taking over as she tried to get the facts as quickly as possible. It was the same persona that appeared whenever there was a patient needing immediate attention in the ER, and she was getting the feeling this was becoming one of those situations. "What happened? Where is your friend?"

"My friend Tom and I were walking back from the bar, and we were about to cross the street and he-he just _collapsed!"_ he repeated himself, a little more comprehensible now.

"Alright, sir, I'm a doctor at Benjamin Franklin," she stated quickly. She could see the man's expression shift slightly, a little relief reaching his eyes. "Now tell me, did he drink too much?"

"No, he had like, two beers!"

She mentally ruled out alcohol poisoning. A reaction perhaps? It wouldn't matter what she thought if she couldn't check this man out herself. She needed to locate him.

"Where is he?"

The man looked around anxiously, continually stepping from side to side from the stress of the situation.

"Down the street, around the corner," he answered hastily. "Please, can you help, he was still on the _ground..."_

 _Then why would you leave him?_ Lorelai chided him mentally. But taking in the man's state, she just assumed he wasn't in the right mind. She didn't know the relationship between the man and this friend of his, but judging by the reaction, she assumed they had to be close.

"Take me to him," she commanded, and the man immediately nodded and began running in the direction of his fallen friend. Clutching her bag tightly in her fist, she took off after him.

"Did you call 911?" she yelled to the man racing in front of her. She saw him nod hurriedly.

"Yeah, yeah, they said they'd be here soon!" he called back.

She nodded to herself. At least he remembered to do that.

They ran for a few moments, and when they made it to the end of the sidewalk, the man turned the corner, Lorelai following close behind. It was then that the other end of the she caught a glimpse of her newest patient; from what she could see, there was a man lying on the sidewalk, not appearing to be moving. She had no idea how long the man had been unconscious, but from what she could piece together from the man's story, it couldn't have been long. Depending on the severity of his situation, he may still get out of this okay.

The doctor quickened her pace, knowing very well that time was valuable in these few critical minutes. Having passed the small side street just ahead, the man ahead of her was already at his friend's side, having fallen to his knees as he resumed trying to wake the man on the ground. She was only yards away now, already beginning to open her bag, grabbing her supplies to begin her own treatments...

But Lorelai never made it past the alleyway.

The doctor was only a few feet away from the supposed victim when out of the darkness came multiple hands and arms wrapping themselves around her, pulling her into the clutches of the men waiting for her. She was so shocked at the sudden attack that she couldn't grasp what was happening to her. Everything was happening too quickly, as intended, and her mind couldn't catch up with the situation. She wasn't even given the opportunity to scream as a needle was stuck into her neck. The only feeling she could truly comprehend was the pain of the slender metal piercing her skin, but her senses were soon becoming blurred together. She was unconscious within seconds, and her body was swiftly taken away, no one the wiser as to what just happened.

* * *

Lorelai didn't move or make a sound in the chair she occupied, her arms crossed and her eyes refusing to meet the gaze of the blond, suited man that sat across from her. She didn't know whether it was her fear or her anger that was keeping her so silent, but whichever it was, it was doing the trick.

The older man, who was sitting behind a desk that looked like it had seen better days, had already introduced himself as Alexander Pierce when she was forced into the room and 'gently' encouraged to take a seat. He also identified the other man in the room, the man she thought was trying to help his friend and instead brought her here, as Agent Brock Rumlow. She shuttered at the thought; she had no idea where 'here' was. It didn't help that she still felt very disoriented. Whatever drug they had knocked her out with was still lingering in her system, and she had woken up in a dark room only minutes before being roughly lead into this new room where the man was waiting.

"Lorelai Langley Hellman."

Pierce saying her name out loud was enough to make her jump in her seat. He was reading from a file on the desk, and she felt her palms start to sweat as she realized it was _her_ file. They had a file on her. Why? Why was she here? What the hell is going on?

"You're a graduate of the NYU School of Medicine," he continued slowly, deliberately, his posture very relaxed. It was as if she had come here willingly for a job interview. "You've successfully completed all your training and you now are now an emergency room physician at Benjamin Franklin University Hospital down here in DC." He continued to read a few things on the file he didn't share out loud, taking a few moments to do so. Then, with a small smile, he looked up at her.

"You have a very impressive resume, Dr. Hellman," he complimented her genuinely. "You're a very intelligent woman."

She wanted to gag at the statement.

"Obviously not intelligent enough to know when I'm being tricked," Lorelai muttered angrily, still not looking up at him. She felt anything but intelligent as she sat in this dingy, dimly lit room with this man in front of her, another scarier looking man somewhere out of sight behind her. She replayed the entire incident of her kidnapping over and over in her head, trying to look for any warning signs she missed. But the man who approached her, Rumlow, had seemed so genuine, so concerned about his "injured friend" who wouldn't get up from the ground. She was a doctor. Her job and her duty was to help those in situations just like this.

"Ah, she speaks," Pierce stated happily, pleased to have gotten something out of her. "You've been very quiet since you've been here."

"Because not only did you trick me and bring me to this godforsaken place, you played on my instincts to help people."

Pierce seemed to consider this for a moment, but as he leaned back in his chair, he made it very clear he was in no way remorseful for the order he gave.

"We thought it was the easiest way, maybe even the least traumatic," he explained with such casualness it made Lorelai's head pound. "This was certainly the option with the least amount of witnesses. I mean, we've had plenty of opportunity. We could have taken you at the hospital. Or in your home while you slept. Or during your lunch yesterday with your friend, Greta."

The man saying Greta's name made a wave of nausea hit her stomach. Was she in danger as well now? She prayed her friend wasn't, the thought of Greta in the kind of situation currently made a line of sweat appear on her forehead. She was processing too much overwhelming information at once; Someone was watching her? Knew where she lived? Who were these people who talked so nonchalantly about kidnapping her from her own bed in the middle of the night?

"You see, Dr. Hellman, we've been keeping tabs on you for awhile," Pierce continued. His statement made Lorelai's stomach churn uncomfortably. "We're always in need of new physicians, and someone with your skills could be very valued here." When she didn't respond he continued. "Also, both of your parents are dead, and your brother was killed in action three years ago, so there aren't many _other_ people keeping tabs on you, which makes it easier for you to disappear than some of our previous physicians."

For the first time she turned to face him, her eyes like daggers. How _dare_ he bring her family into this.

"Go to _hell,_ " she spat at the man, her tone absolutely venomous. "Who hell are you people? Where am I? What makes you think you can just _do this_ to me?"

A grin came to Pierce's lips.

"We are _Hydra._ This is our primary operations base in DC."

The doctor had heard that name before, most of the world had.

"No, there's no way," Lorelai protested, refusing to believe what he just said. "Captain America stopped Hydra in the 40s." She kept her statement short, believing in its truthfulness.

Pierce nodded agreeingly.

"Yes, there was a short time when our future looked pretty bleak," he admitted amiably. "But the funny thing about us is… if you cut off one head, two will take its place. Since the captain hit the water all those years ago, we have grown exponentially, while keeping our existence unknown to the outside world. Quite successfully, I might add, as you have just demonstrated."

The woman was stunned into silence. She didn't know how to retort, or if she should. She didn't want to believe him, but… should she? Why would he lie about who they were? With everything that was happening to her, was it really that hard to believe they were _Hydra?_ A part of her wanted to say no. Every middle school curriculum had a section about Captain America and Hydra in their history books, so from a young age she had known about the evils the organization had done during World War II. She had also been taught that they were eradicated after their short lived success in the 40s.

But what would they gain from lying to her if they were? Were they doing it to scare her? They didn't need to tell her they were a part of an old school Nazi death league to do that. They had already drugged and kidnapped her, and brought her to his cold, dirty, broken place. She was already afraid.

Whether she was going to accept his statement or not, she wanted no part in this operation, or anything it was about.

"What makes you believe I would ever help you?" she demanded of the man. Her voice shook slightly. "What, you don't have doctors here, people as twisted as you to fix you up? Why the hell would you want me?"

"We find that physicians that work in this sector don't tend to… last very long." Lorelai's stomach twisted in the implication. What was that supposed to mean? "We simply don't want to spare our resources. We brought you in because you're a physician, and a talented one at that."

"What happened to your last doctor?"

Pierce folded his hands, drumming his fingertips together slowly. He seemed to be choosing his wording very carefully.

"Dr. Turk could no longer perform his duties here and has since been… removed, from his position."

Lorelai averted his gaze for the next few moments, feeling her heart begin to beat faster. What he was insinuating was enough for her. She got the message.

"We need someone to treat our injured and, that is your job, isn't it?" the man before her questioned her. "To heal people, make them better?"

"So I heal your people so they can hurt other people," she stated bitterly.

Pierce smiled very lightly then, amused by her remark. He didn't deny what she was saying, however.

"And if I don't?" she retorted.

Pierce's face dropped abruptly, the cool, easygoing demeanor he had previously quickly replaced with a malicious scowl. His shift in emotion was almost comical, but Lorelai knew immediately this was no laughing matter.

"Then we have no use for you."

As soon as the words left his lips, Lorelai heard the unmistakable sound of a magazine being loaded into a gun next to her head. She jumped in her chair, a small whimper escaping her throat when she looked towards the noise to see Rumlow standing at her side. She didn't even hear the man walk to up next to her, and now he was casting a menacing shadow over her, his weapon of choice directly in her line of vision.

She whipped her head back towards Pierce, trying to imagine that the barrel of the gun she was just staring down was anywhere but right next to her.

"I haven't done anything to you," Lorelai tried to reason, her eyes pleading now. She tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but the gun pointed directly to her temple wasn't doing much for her nerves. "Why would you kill me?"

Pierce shrugged, as if the answer was very simple and uncomplicated.

"You've seen my face, you've seen his," he gestured to the man with the weapon. "You even know our names now. Who's to say you wouldn't cause us problems down the road if we let you go? Not that you'd get very far. We have agents in every sector of the government, FBI, CIA, NSA, Shield…"

Well the listing of any of the sectors made her stomach twist in dread, that last organization he mentioned was what really gave her pause.

"Shield?" she said, the name giving her pause. "They're the good guys."

She really did believe that, that Shield was trying to help the world, even if they made mistakes of their own. She had almost completed her fellowship when New York was attacked two years ago, and while the hospital she was at had suffered minimal damage structurally, they were near the epicenter of the attack, and had been one of the hospitals to receive the most injured when the fighting had finally stopped and the portal was closed. But during the action, one of the aliens, a Chitauri she knew they were called, had come into the ER and began to take the doctors and patients hostage, lining them up against a wall and aiming a frightening, foreign weapon at them. That was until one of the Avengers, the woman with incredible fighting abilities and striking red hair, had came in and quickly disabled the monster that attacked them, jumping on its shoulders and shocking it with some weapon on her wrists. She wasn't even in the building for more than two minutes and yet she had saved everyone in the ER and probably the hospital. She didn't stay for thank yous or niceties. She took out her target and moved onto the next one, exiting the building before anyone had even left the wall they were forced against. Lorelai would forever be grateful for that.

She knew the Avengers stood with Shield, and she would do stand with anyone they did.

"That's a matter of opinion." Pierce sighed, as if he was disappointed he was getting nowhere with this conversation. "Dr. Hellman, if you're really choosing to not comply with our orders, then that's your decision. And we'll simply have to act on that decision." The gun next to Lorelai's head had its safety unclicked, making her jump. She felt her blood turn to ice. "You may be the first doctor on our list, but it's a list because others come after you. It may be a bit messier than we hoped but Rumlow here could very easily find a shallow place for your body to go. And someone else will take your place in this very seat." He casually gestured to her position for a moment. "I believe the next name was also a woman's…"

There was a file on his desk he opened very purposefully then, and after a moment of searching the papers, he found what he was looking for. "Vanessa Caro, yes, that was it." He paused for another moment, continuing to read the information they had on this poor, unsuspecting woman. "It says here, she has a husband, David, and three young children, Valentina, Elena, and Lucas."

Pierce closed the file, looking back to her with an inquisitive expression, as if this woman's life was a piece of trivia he was trying to solve.

"I wonder how she would hold up in your position," he said lightly, scratching his chin in contemplation. "I wonder if she would show the same stubbornness you are. She is a few years older than you, but not by much. It'll be interesting to see if age really does bring wisdom."

Lorelai knew what he was doing; he was manipulating her, telling her that if she didn't follow through, this woman, a woman with a family depending on her, would take her doomed place. He was making her feel selfish, like this decision was all on her; whatever was going to happen next was her doing. And though she was fully aware of these sinister mind games being used against her, she was disheartened to realize that they were working. She was starting to understand what he meant about doctors not lasting long around here.

The suited devil then ended with the finishing blow.

"And I wonder what her children would think when their mom goes missing."

That sentence was the one that broke her.

The doctor took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to bite back the waves of nausea hitting her like the tides. There was no winning in this situation.

 _What was the point of saying no,_ Lorelai thought dejectedly. If she did she'd be dead, never to be seen or heard from again as her body was disposed of in some shallow grave far away from here or in the middle of the ocean. And then this woman would have her life ruined as well, and not just hers but the lives of her husband, her children, and whatever other family and friends this woman had. There was no point in so many lives being destroyed today when just hers would do.

Pierce sighed dramatically. "Well, I guess we're going to find out how her children-"

"No," she cut him off, feeling her breath catch in her throat as she did so. She opened her eyes and tried to steel herself for the next few moments. She needed to be strong somehow.

The sides of the Secretary's lips twitched upward for a fraction of a second before returning to their grim straight line.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked of her, his professional, light tone masking the menace behind it.

Lorelai took a deep breath before continuing, looking Alexander Pierce straight in the eyes. For the first time she was glad she was seated; she didn't know if her legs would hold her at the moment.

"I won't let you hurt that woman like this," she declared weakly, her hands gripping themselves so tightly they were turning white. "I'll do whatever you want me to, just… don't…"

The gun to the side of her head was lowered, the safety clicked back into place. Lorelai thought she would feel better once the weapon was put away, but she was finding a new sense of anxiety was filling her stomach; she had just sold her soul to a devil she never knew existed.

"Excellent," Pierce proclaimed spiritedly, sitting back in his seat comfortably. "I'm pleased you made the _reasonable_ decision, Dr. Hellman."

'Dr. Hellman' raised her head towards the man before her, her eyes flashing

"You're all monsters," she stated matter of factly. Pierce smiled, unruffled by her comment.

"That, too, is a matter of opinion." He then looked up to the man standing next to her and nodded once. The rough man took a few steps away from the chair but stayed close. Apparently a gun to her head wasn't needed anymore.

Pierce cleared his throat then, his demeanor all business and professional now that she had 'agreed' to be their new physician. A few items needed to be discussed, but for the most part, her role was very cut and dry.

"Now, your position here is simple," he began, now sitting up straighter in his chair. "We have agents frequently returning this base with varying injuries. You're expected to treat whatever is ailing them so they can return to duty as quickly as possible."

"I'm not a surgeon," Lorelai injected then, feeling the need to make that known. "If one of your _agents_ needs a heart transplant, then you're looking at the wrong specialist."

"If something that _dramatic_ should arise, we will seek other means," he informed her. "And if the time and circumstance would allow it, we would rely on you to tell us if something of that nature would be necessary. However, allow me to make something very clear." His tone changed dramatically then, the flip-flopping in his behavior making her head spin. When he spoke next he didn't try and hide the malice that he was truly capable of, articulating his thought very plainly. He leaned over the desk, looming over her. "If you allow any of our men to die and you possessed the ability to save them, if you didn't give their life your very _best_ effort, that bullet to your brain will come very quickly. Consider this your only warning on this topic."

She held his hard gaze, a flame of rage flickering in the base of her belly at the insinuation she would like someone die out of spite. She wouldn't, couldn't, let someone die if she could have helped it, even bad men. That wasn't in her nature. She made her next remark out of rebellion more than anything else.

"Don't tempt me."

Pierce's eyes flicked at her for her words, but let the comment slide for the time being, knowing his point had been made. His tone then let up for a moment after, masking his true demeanor once again and sitting back in his chair.

"Just think of it as you treating any other person who may come through your hospital's doors."

She didn't respond because one wasn't needed. She would never think of it that way, and he already knew that.

Now that these details were discussed, the Secretary continued onto final and most important topic that needed to be reviewed before she departed.

"There is one subject you will be assigned to look over in particular during your time here." He then reached for another file on the desk, and after locating it, he, to Lorelai's surprise, handed it to her. She hesitantly took the papers, and opened the file very slowly, as if it might snap at her. When it was finally all out in front of her, she began to read it over, looking for the most pertinent details. The papers contained the findings of what looked like multiple stress tests varying in difficulty and tasks, and health exams. There was no picture to put a face to these findings. Not a name either. The terms identifying the patient these were done on were "subject" or "Asset".

But as Lorelai looked over the data and compared it to the man's physical build, she started to believe she was being duped somehow. In fact, it didn't matter the man's weight, build, age, height, anything. The results she was reading weren't just ridiculous; they were comical.

"See anything worth sharing?" Pierce probed her after a few moments, watching her read the findings and seeing the crease of confusion come across her forehead. She looked up at him, her eyes both confused and angered.

"Is this a joke?" she asked, exasperation climbing its way into her tone. "These vitals... stress tests don't make _any_ sense. This can _not_ be the real data."

Pierce's neutral expression didn't change.

"All the data you are reading is accurate. They are the real findings of studies on the patient."

Lorelai cocked her head to the side, her face falling into an irritated, "yeah f-ing right" expression.

"Oh, really?" she challenged the man sitting in front of her. "Not only do you have this patient documented running at speeds of _50 miles per hour,_ but the patient isn't displaying any signs of cardiac stress while doing it. And, oh, what's this I see?" She pointed to a sentence on the sheet that was catching her eye. "'The calculated maximum weight the subject has withstood is 2150 pounds'? 'Minimal cardiac stress'." She looked back up at Pierce. "That's a car. You're saying this patient can hold a car and remain not under serious stress?"

Pierce's expression now beamed slightly.

"This patient... He is not a normal man."

That stopped Lorelai short.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"This man has been altered genetically. He was at one time an average soldier. However, after some… _modifications,_ he now has enhanced strength and peak human stamina, both of which you have already pointed out, as well as peak human speed, durability, reflexes, agility, and healing."

"So he's like Captain America or something?"

Pierce's gaze on her turned hard after her comment, the name seeming to aggravate the man. For fear of poking the bear, she bit back some of the satisfaction she felt.

"What, touchy subject?"

Pierce didn't respond to the snide remark. His reaction made Lorelai smiled on the inside, happy to strike a nerve with the man, finally. Not only that, but it also verified that the Captain wasn't in on this whole undercover operation she was being introduced to. _At least some things remain uncorrupted..._

"This man is invaluable in our line of work and he is to be treated as a top priority. I want you to perform weekly examinations, administer his medication, and treat him when he returns from missions."

"If he heals quickly why do you need me to treat him?"

"He can't heal if he bleeds out. His healing abilities and durability are heightened but it won't stop a bullet from going through him."

The doctor was silent, contemplating her next response.

"What are the medications for?" Lorelai questioned next, thinking it would require a simply reply Pierce could answer. Instead the man's face paused blankly for a moment. He seemed to be silently turning something over in his head as she sat there wondering why his answer needed such consideration. He soon regained his composure.

"I really don't believe you need to be priviledge to that information," informed her matter of factly.

She raised a brow in defiance.

" _Yes,_ I _do_ need to know," Hellman replied angrily, irritated at the answer she received. How did they expect her to do her job correctly if they didn't give her all the details? "You want me to be his physician, and I need to know what ails my patient. What are you medicating him for?"

Pierce was quiet for moment, going over his thoughts once more. He seemed to determine it would just be easier to give her an answer than keep her in the dark and have her retaliating. He sighed deeply.

"The soldier is being treated for a post traumatic stress diagnosis. His medications help to manage his anxiety."

His answer was logical, reasonable, able to be easily explained and augmented, and if she challenged this, he would probably have the facts and details to back up his answer. It was a good excuse and she almost believed him. Almost.

She knew he was lying the second the words left his lips.

"You're sending a man with PTSD into battle," she stated with gritted teeth, not fighting his lie for the time being. "How do you expect that to go over? Aren't you worried about damaging his mentality further?"

"You let us worry about that." There was no room for arguments. She stayed quiet. She didn't know how far she would be able to push this man yet.

"What you may want to know is that his left arm is made entirely of metal," Pierce added.

Lorelai raised a brow.

"Like a prosthetic? I don't have expertise in working with prosthetics."

Pierce nodded. "It serves as his prosthetic, but it is worlds more intricate than any other you have ever seen. You'll see what I mean soon enough," he added vaguely. "I've told you more for courtesy's sake. We have technicians for _that_ piece of him, but you may want to stay clear of it."

Lorelai cringed mentally at his wording. They talked of his man like he was slab of meat. And 'stay clear of it'? She didn't like the sounds of that. She didn't like the sounds of anything he was saying.

Before she could question him further, Pierce began to rise from his seat behind the desk. It seemed that he believed there was nothing more worth discussing for the time being.

Lorelai stayed planted to her seat, unsure of what was about happen to her next.

"Now, Rumlow is going to take you to your room and get you settled," Pierce stated cordially, that masking smile once again burning into her vision. "It's a been a pleasure, Dr. Hellman." His eyes darkened as he stood before her, casting a shadow over her in the lighting. "I hope your arrangement with us isn't quick to end."

With those parting words, he stepped to the side and helped himself out of the room, leaving Lorelai to stare at the now empty desk with a heavy heart and a trembling torso. The room was silent now that the man had left, and she could hear her heart pounding in her chest with anticipation. What was going to happen now? Was she supposed to follow? Was this where she was supposed to work? Was she-

"Let's go," Rumlow ordered her from above then, suddenly back at her side. She jumped at his tone and his abrupt appearance, having not heard him come up from behind her. She met his eyes hesitantly, unnerved but unsurprised at the cold, careless look that met her. He obviously had no intentions of keeping face with her. Not that she wanted him to create some fake facade like Pierce had; she had no intentions of showing him any cordiality as well. He began to march away from her without another word.

The doctor slowly arose from her seat with uncertainty in her step, and followed the man who was already out the door before she began moving. _Impatient much._ Nevertheless she quickened her pace to keep up with him, not wanting to get lost in this building, wherever the hell she was.

This was the first time Lorelai was actually able to take in her surroundings. When she was lead down the hallway into the room the first time, she was scared out of her mind but also groggy from the effects of whatever drugs they had knocked her out with. But now that she was more alert, she could drink in the details from around her. The hallway they journeyed down was poorly lit; most of the light fixtures were outdated, dirty, and some of them were blinking wildly. The design of the corridor looked like that of an office building at first. They passed many rooms with the doors hanging from their hinges, some of which had no doors entirely. When she dared a look inside one of them, it happened to be one with agents inside, standing around a table with a laptops and maps, speaking in hushed voices. When they noticed her lingering eyes, they stopped their whispering abruptly, training their piercing stares at her. She snapped her head away and picked up her pacing. It wasn't hard to see that they were all armed.

As Rumlow took her deeper into the building, she began to notice some more distinguishing features that could give her a clue as to where she was. Their location began to look less like an office space and more like a fortress, the floors shifting from dirty carpeting to hard, old linoleum and the air growing colder. There were large gates on some of the doorways that looked vaguely familiar, as if she'd seen something like them before, but she couldn't explain why. It wasn't until they reached a particularly well fortified section of the hallway that she finally began to piece some things together. Looking to the walls, and she noticed that they looked to be covered with safety deposit boxes, some of which were opened and dented, all of which looked as though they had seen better years.

Was she in a bank?

Rumlow suddenly began to bark at Lorelai once more, pulling her from her observations. She jumped at his outburst. She supposed she was going to have to get used to it. He began to 'share' a few more details as he marched in front of her, not bothering to give her even a side glance as he did so.

"For the time being you will be able to move about the base on your own, but do anything stupid and that privilege will quickly be taken away from you," he told her, his voice, while loud and commanding, sounding almost disinterested. "All entrances and exits have armed guards at all hours, and they all know your face; escape won't end well for you. Do you understand?"

The doctor gave a very small sound of a response. She didn't think she could manage much more at the moment.

After another moment's of walking Rumlow paused in front of a seemingly random door, turning around to stand directly in front of her. He gestured for her to go inside first, making her eye him suspiciously. However, his cold stare wasn't relenting in any way, and she didn't have another choice. With a hesitant turn of her wrist she opened the door and stepped inside.

The small room, unlike the space outside the door, was much cleaner than she had expected, the beige carpeting looking less tread upon and the lighting much brighter. The room was a decent size, about the size of a dorm room, and the walls matched the floors in color. There was a cot with what looked like clean, paper thin sheets and a pillow in the right hand corner of the room. The room had no window, unsurprisingly.

Her medical bag was on the bed, making her heart skip a beat at the recognition. She had forgotten she had it with her when she was taken, and somehow seeing something of hers in the room gave her a small comfort. She walked hurriedly over to the bed and unzipped the heavy, sturdy pack. Quickly shuffling through it, she was disheartened, but unsurprised to find that her phone was missing. _Great._

"This is your room," the agent explained quickly, his body mostly turned towards the door as if he was preparing to leave. "Bathrooms and water access are across the hall, food is brought in everyday in the area we passed at 9, 2, and 5, but it is open all the time. Go there for your meals, take what you want. In the drawers you'll find clothes and anything else you might need. If there is anything _dire_ you should need, you tell one of us." She got by the tone of his voice that there would be few things he would consider 'dire' enough for him to actually go and get.

Lorelai went to the shelf and opened the drawers one by one. True to his word, there were multiple bland gray shirts and sweatpants, both men's and women's by the looks of it, and all her necessary toiletries; shampoo, soap, toothpaste, feminine supplies… And there was a lot of it. Enough to last her a long time...

The doctor turned to Rumlow, her eyes lacking the confident she sorely needed right now.

"How long do you expect me to be here?" she demanded of the man, feeling her heart begin to pound rapidly in her chest.

He shrugged lazily, a sigh leaving him before his answer did.

"As long as we need you."

Without another word the agent left the room, closing the door behind him.

The room was silent and she was absolutely still as the woman stood alone. That was until she heard a half gasp, half wail leave her throat, the sound erupting for split second before she covered her own mouth with her hands. Slowly moving her feet to the cot, she took a seat as her weight suddenly became too much to carry. She felt like she was able to vomit, a bead of sweat lining her forehead.

What was happening?

* * *

 _Can this chapter get any larger? It could have. I was going to introduce Bucky as well, but 10000+ words later, I thought better of it. I wrote a few things on my profile if you'd like to know what's happening with some of my other work. Hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think._


	2. Wrong

Unsurprisingly, very little sleep had met Lorelai that first night on the base. With her body a bundle of nerves after her emotional breakdown, she found it difficult to fall asleep on the uncomfortable cot, and the doctor, normally a very heavy sleeper, felt like she heard every noise that rang throughout the base that night. Every time she heard someone walk past the door to her room, she feared it was an agent coming to take her away, and her body would tense up for the few seconds spanning from the time the sound of footprints would appear to when they seemed to pass by her room. Somehow, however, she had managed to get a few short hours in, the exhaustion of the day (or was it still night? She had no idea what time it was anymore) finally making her crash.

When she awoke up the next morning, the doctor had kept her eyes closed for a few seconds longer, trying to believe it was all a dream, that she hadn't been taken and forced into this horrible contract with the devil himself. But as she felt the roughness of the sheets enveloping her and smelled the stale scent of cleaner in the air, she almost burst into tears once more. It had been real. It had all been real. She was trapped with no means for escape for an indefinite amount of time.

Lorelai felt as if a dark cloud had formed above her, a vortex sucking her energy and her will directly from her body. She had never felt so dejected before, so lifeless. But the prospect of her having to live the rest of her life, however long that may be, in this dark, cold place made her not want to move. Would she never see Greta again? Her tiny home, her coworkers, the hospital? Or even the sunlight? _Sunlight_ , she mused for a moment. What she would do for something as common as sunlight. After she was drugged she had woken up in a pitch black room, scared out of her mind and alone. Then she had spend the night in this windowless room. She slowly opened her eyes and was met with, unsurprisingly, darkness. She sighed deeply. That's what she felt like at the moment. A big dark hole. A void.

For a few moments, she debated going back to sleep. What pleasure could she find in her day now? There was nothing for her here. All she was to do was treat the injured and hope that wasn't the day they decided she wasn't needed anymore. Or would that be a good thing? Them just putting her out of her misery. She scared herself with thoughts like that. She never before thought this way, yet here she was hoping one of the agents ended her. She tried to shake away these thoughts. _This isn't the end of you, Lorelai. There's still hope; there has to be._

The more she deliberated in the darkness, the doctor determined she didn't want to be asleep and caught off guard if, or more likely when, she was summoned by Rumlow or one of the other agents. She would much rather be ready for them when they arrived, having no idea what to expect from these men. In addition, she was beginning to grow thirsty, and she didn't feel particularly clean. She was currently wearing the same clothing she had been taken in and hadn't been able to clean herself, which after a long shift meant she was covered in sweat, snot, and whatever other fluids had gotten on her during the day. Slowly, she arose from her cot, and carefully she began to blindly search the walls for the light switch she had found last night. Feeling the wall, she located the door and then the doorknob, alerting her that she was where she wanted to be. Sending her hand a little higher to the right, she located and flipped the switch.

The ceiling light flickered in protest and projected dim lighting with a whining bulb, and as her eyes adjusted, Lorelai first walked over to her medical bag that was now lying next to the dresser near her cot. Grabbing it, she opened her tote and began to examine its contents, laying them out on her new bed. While her phone was gone, they had left her her wallet, which she was grateful for. Upon examining it she found that nothing was taken, none of her money or identification cards, or the pictures of her parents and her brother. She also found that most of her medical supplies she carried on hand, such as sterile gauze, antibiotics, a bottle of Advil, her medical tools, etc, all seemed to be present and accounted for.

She was a little surprised to see that they left the sharper tools she carried, such as her scissors and scalpel, for her to keep. Didn't they think she'd try and use them as a weapon, try to escape? But the more she thought about it, the more she understood what little sense that would make. Being that her experience in shanking people was minimal, she knew that her chances of hitting someone without somehow injuring herself were slim. And what was she going to do after? Run away? The whole place was guarded. There was no way she would be getting out on her own, and they would probably shoot her on site for her retaliation.

The other contents of her bag included a half filled reuseable water bottle, an extra pair of scrubs rolled tightly in a ball, a small cross from her Grandma Langley she always kept in her bag, some empty Clif Bar wrappers, and a few stray hair ties and bobby pins. Ultimately, nothing of immediate help. Well, except for the bottle. Unscrewing the top, she chugged the lukewarm water hastily, happy to have some of her thirst quenched.

Placing the items back inside and closing the bag, she then turned to the dresser by her bedside, wanting to get out of the dirty clothes she had spent one, maybe two days in. Opening the first drawer, she took out one of the pairs of sweatpants and quickly changed, then grabbing a loose gray t-shirt and doing the same. Going into the bottom drawer, she searched for and located a washcloth and a bar of soap. She wasn't planning on using the showers Rumlow had told her were across the hall; she was nowhere near comfortable enough to do that yet. And while she didn't believe she would ever be comfortable with the idea, she knew she'd that to do it eventually, not only for herself physically, but mentally. At the very least, however, she could clean herself up a little, feel a little better about herself.

Hesitantly opening the door to her space, Lorelai peeked her head out of the doorframe before daring to walk outside. When she saw not one was coming, she quickly exited her room, closing the door behind her. She spotted the door to the restroom almost immediately, and was unsurprised to see it was a multiperson bathroom, reminding her of her college dorm building. There were three bathroom stalls, four sinks, and two shower stalls tucked away in the back. Wanting to get in and out of there as soon as possible and avoid any run ins with agents, she quickly got to work. Wetting the washcloth and soap, she quickly cleaned herself up, wiping away at least some of the grime of the previous day from her arms, legs, torso, etc. She felt best after using the cloth to get the sweat and old remnants of makeup from her face. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment before she continued. To her, her skin looked paler than usual, the few tiny birthmarks she had that dotted her face looking more prominent. Even though she wanted to, she didn't wash her hair, instead putting her long, dark, curly locks in a ponytail to get it out of her face. Overall, though she didn't feel 100 percent, she felt better than before.

After her two minute makeshift shower, she quickly made her way back to her room, again thankful to have not run into any agents en route. She closed the door, breathed a sigh of relief, and then turned to face the room. As she looked at her simple amenities, a startling thought came to mind; _So now what?_

Lorelai hung her wet washcloth on the railing at the end of her bed to dry, the soap in the drawer, and then sat back down on the cot, at a loss of what to do now. Was she to formulate a plan, a way to escape? Pierce had mentioned they were still in DC, meaning she could probably figure out where she was and make it to a police station if she somehow got out of wherever the hell she was. But as much as her instincts told her to, the looming knowledge that whatever she dared to formula would most likely not only not work, but end in her being shot, made her a little less inclined to try.

With an aggravated huff, she flopped back on the bed, trying to remember the morning before this one, how she had ran out of her apartment with a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth, all in a fuss because she overslept and needed to make her usual subway ride. Was yesterday really the last day she ever see her apartment? Would it have been the last day she could have eaten breakfast like she usually did, calmly watching the DC sunrise from her tiny kitchen window? She felt a ball of sadness begin to swell in her stomach. How differently she would have done things had she known what was going to occur later that night. Now she laid here in this old cot in this old room in god knows where, DC, waiting to be called on like a dog.

Lorelai heard footsteps. The doorknob then turned, making her jump into a sitting position, her heart beating faster. Rumlow entered the room, chest up, shoulders back, looking as intimidating and unwelcoming as ever, his signature scowl seemingly a permanent fixture on this face. In his hand, he seemed to have something wrapped in napkins, but what it was she was unable to conclude.

"Didn't see you eating at all this morning," Rumlow stated pointedly, crossing his arms as he took her in. "You must be hungry. I hope you're planning on eating while you're here." Coming from anyone else, the statement might have been seen as the man checking on her wellbeing, making sure she was doing okay. However, the tone of this voice told her that all he was concerned about was her starving herself and causing him trouble.

Lorelai felt her heart go into her throat for a moment. Didn't see her eat? She began to feel sweat form on her neck. Was he saying there were cameras in her room, watching her?

"What do you mean?" she asked nervously, afraid to hear the answer. Just when she had worked up the courage to change into new clothes...

"The cafeteria," Rumlow repeated, clearly annoyed with having to explain himself. "No one saw you there this morning. What, did you forget where it was or something?"

The relief she felt was immediate, now knowing she wasn't being spied on so intimately. They were simply keeping tabs on her.

"Just didn't get there yet," the doctor told him calmly, not wanting to feed into his bad energy. She hated being around this man. He gave off a vibe that he was a ticking time bomb with a short fuse, and she felt uncomfortable being in his blast radius. She already knew he had no problem sticking a gun to her head. Who knows what he could do when provoked?

The man seemed to almost roll his eyes the woman on the cot, but noticing the wet washcloth hanging on the railing of the cot, he knew that she had at the very least left the room and used the restroom. He also noted that she had changed her clothes into the ones provided to her. These were starts.

Rumlow tossed her whatever was in his hand. The sudden movement startled her, making her jump in her seat, but she was able to catch the object easily. Unwrapping whatever it was from the napkin surrounding it, she found that it was nothing more than a plain bagel, hand delivered to her by the scariest man she had ever met. Looking up at the agent, Lorelai saw that he was watching her carefully, daring her to refuse what he brought her. Still not hungry, but not wanting to start a tif this early in their interactions, she ripped off a piece of the food and ate it in front of him. After eating the first bite, she suddenly realized she actually was hungry for more. She didn't remember just how long ago it was that she ate.

The Hydra agent looked satisfied.

"Thought I was going to have to come in here and have to be a bit more _persuasive_ ," he confessed, and while he didn't look happy, he didn't look particularly unhappy either. She took that as a good sign. "I'm here to take you to the Asset. After today you can get to the infirmary yourself to administer his medications and do weekly exams, but other than that, we will only get you if you are needed."

The captive nodded, taking a large bite of the bagel in her hand. Lord, she really was hungry. Maybe after this she would venture to where the food was. It would certainly be better than staring at one of her four walls for the rest of the day. She began to quickly put her shoes on, not wanting to keep the hot headed agent waiting very long, and after a moment, bagel in hand, she was ready to leave.

Wherever they were going, it was taking them a few minutes to get there as Rumlow navigated them through the maze that was the base. Lorelai was trying to concentrate and memorize where they were going, breaking off small pieces of her food and eating as she did, when the agent broke the silence between them.

"Why so quiet, Hellman?" he questioned her, not looking back at her and with a smug tone in his voice.

Besides her hatred of the man in front of her, there wasn't a particular reason she was being quiet at that time. But his tone and blatant rudeness sparked her need for retaliation, even if it was at a small scale, so she decided to speak up.

"You could at least knock before you barge into my room," she commented dryly. While she wouldn't have brought it up if Rumlow hadn't prompted some snarkiness in her, she would at least like to feel like he had a little dignity here. _Lorelai Langley, shut up! What did you just say about not challenging him?_ She guessed she couldn't contain herself. She was never the greatest at biting her tongue.

"I could," he responded cheekily, still not turning to face her. "But in case you've forgotten, you're not a guest here, and I have no obligation to make you comfortable."

If possible, the doctor knew there would have been fumes rising from her head. She was completely blown away by his lack of kindness and empathy. She began to feel herself using the bagel as a stress doll and quickly stopped herself.

"And you know, you're quite the actor," she bit bitterly, his answer making her own short fuse be lit. She would never get over being fooled like that. He looked so genuine in his concern, and she had fallen right into this trap. "I honestly believed you were a human that night. I was so fooled."

He actually chuckled, once, darkly, not seeming to take her insult to heart. "Don't take it too personally, you wouldn't be the first," he responded, his tone still the same. "You doctors are so easy to get. One cry for help and you all come racing. Easy."

His comment made her blood boil even more than it already was. But before she had anything else smart to say, they seemed to have reached their destination. There were men standing by a door at the end of the hallway they had arrived at, and Lorelai figured that it must be where this asset was, being that none of the other rooms had this special protection. When they approached the room, Rumlow and the guards shared a nod, and he then proceeded to open the door. Gesturing for her to go first, the doctor only paused for a moment to eye him cautiously before making her way inside.

Unlike her own, the room she entered was much larger and had what looked like safety deposit boxes all along the wall, looking as old as everything else in the building she had seen so far. Each of the boxes were labeled with little notes, all marked with a sharpie and sloppy handwriting that stated what was inside. There was a counter stationed under many of the boxes, and it looked like the newest fixture of the space, obviously not a part of the original layout of the room. There were large metal machines all centered around the middle of the room, most of which she had never seen before and had no idea what their function was. She knew it would be a good idea to avoid them.

Her eyes then fell on a man seated on the metal table stationed in the middle of the room. The Asset, she could safely assume.

And he was not at all what she was expecting.

The woman assumed the man she would see would be a large, commanding brute, someone with an air of confidence and malice radiating around him. She mostly pictured a mirror to Rumlow, someone that had the same scowl and _charming_ personality to match his. The only difference was that in her mind, this man would be huge, the kind would looked like he could hold the enormous weight his file said he could.

But the man sitting on the table before her was none of the things she believed him to be. He was a well built man, but nowhere near the size she had imagined, and instead of the 'air of confidence' she expected, he sat there quietly, his head cast towards the ground as his shoulder-length, brown hair swept into his face. She was able to see that his eyes appeared to be fixed in one spot on the floor, but at nothing at all. The way he sat there made her believe he had no idea they had even entered the room.

It took her a moment to notice his metal arm, and then remember that Pierce had mentioned that detail yesterday. The man's words began echoing in her head. _It serves as his prosthetic, but it is worlds more intricate than any other you have ever seen._ He was wearing a simple t-shirt that gave her the advantage of seeing almost the entire piece of machinery. Even from a distance she could see that it was indeed unlike anything she'd ever seen before, the design very complex and unique. And that was just from looking at it. She didn't even see it in action yet.

 _You may want to stay clear of it._ All of a sudden she was remembering that comment as well.

"I'll leave you to it," Rumlow announced suddenly, the break in the silence of the room startling her a little. He seemed almost bored with the current events, and apparently did not plan to make any introductions between her and the Asset. "Anything you might need is in the boxes, his dosage chart is on the counter. If you have any problems, the guards are outside the door."

It was a good thing she didn't have questions, because the agent didn't seem to have the time for any. After this statements, he immediately turned to walk out the door, leaving the doctor to do her work.

When the door slammed shut, Lorelai turned so that she was now facing the man on the table instead of the threshold. He still had yet to look up at her. She didn't exactly know how to act around him, her previous plans of ignoring anything but his examination now seeming unnecessary. If he was the brute she had pictured she could have treated him with cold indifference and just gone on with her work. But the man sitting in front of her… Not reacting to others in the room, the sullen position of his body… Something was wrong with him. If she didn't note the almost unseen rises of his chest, she would have believed he was a statue there for show. Maybe Pierce wasn't lying about his PTSD. She found herself having genuine concern for the Hydra agent, something she didn't think was possible at this point. But agent or not, this _human_ was in need of help.

She placed her bagel on the counter, now feeling dumb having it in her hand as she walked into the room. Slowly, she began to approach the man on the table, trying to keep her movements slow and quiet as not to startle him. If he was having some kind of episode, she didn't want to set him off.

"Hello," the doctor started simply, keeping her voice at the welcoming and soothing tone she normally used with her patients. She was disappointed when he still didn't look up at her. "My name is Dr. Hellman. I'm supposed to… um… give you an examination. Just a check up, really." She decided to change her wording, feeling that 'examination' had some kind of negative quality to it.

Still nothing.

"Judging by what they're telling me I guess you're kind of used to them by now."

Silence.

She frowned slightly, unsure of how to proceed. "May I begin? Is… is that okay with you? Are you feeling alright?"

Her most recent questions seemed to stir something in him. He turned his head very slightly towards her, finally facing the woman and slightly revealing confusion shadowing his face.

In the first moments their eyes met, Lorelai took a second to see what he really looked like, this quiet, isolated man. And she was surprised to see that he was very handsome. Though his appearance was unkempt, it was easy to see that the man had strong, dark features, a chiseled face, and some five o'clock shadow beginning to show along his firm set jaw. His eyes, while a shade of blue that glowed beautifully in the light, were haunting. She could feel them analyzing her every movement as she stood before him, sending a shiver down her spine. They had an intensity like none like she had seen before, and for some reason, she was beginning to not doubt the effectiveness this man was capable of in his work.

But after the initial shock of seeing him wore down, Lorelai then became confused at his confusion. Did she say something? Was her tone offensive somehow? Did she misspeak somehow?

Or was it just that she asked his permission before beginning?

Thankfully, she didn't need to debate the reasons why for much longer. To her relief, the Asset nodded once, very slightly, in the affirmative, consenting to her beginning her work on him.

She gave the man a soft smile. "Great. Let's get started then."

Lorelai walked back over to the countertop to retrieve a few things, but it took her a few minutes to get herself situated, needing some time to locate the blood pressure cuff, stethoscope, otoscope, and the other tools she needed to give a proper examination. She first had to find the deposit boxes that held the equipment, and found that most of which were on higher levels than she could reach. Because of this, she had to locate some way of reaching them, and after taking a quick assessment of the room, she saw that there was a chair in one of the corners. While it was heavier than she expected, she began carrying it over to where the boxes were.

"So... what's your name?" the woman asked conversationally, trying to break the silence between them as she carried the chair to where it needed to be. Her voice was strained a bit from the exertion she was putting into walking the heavy object across the room, but she still wanted to try and get the man to speak. A name was something simple, something she could work with. She certainly didn't want to refer to him as the 'Asset' for the rest of the time, that seemed much too clinical for her. From the moment he nodded, she began to consider him one of her patients. However, she received no response.

Lorelai looked over to see if he was even listening to her, and to her surprise, she found that while his whole body was still angled away from the doctor, he was watching her from over his shoulder. Well, he did hear her. _Not very chatty I guess._ She decided to let the question go. If he didn't want to talk, he didn't want to.

She dropped the chair into place with a loud bang, and stepped onto it, finally able to retrieve what she needed. Gathering the equipment in her arms, she stepped down and spread her findings along the surface, begin to read from the man's medication list that was on the counter top. The list said to give him the prescribed meds and a single liquid dose via syringe every two days, and a calendar was included with all his dosage dates.

Lorelai found almost everything about the chart and list she was looking at to be confusingly odd. The amount of pills she was supposed to give him and the time interval between dosages were enough to make her raise an eyebrow as to what she was looking at. But weirdest part of all was that there wasn't a single prescription name or reason for treatment on the list. All it stated was that he needed _two pills from bottle 1, two pills from bottle 2, one pill from bottle 3,_ and so on until there were six bottles she needed to retrieve pills from. It made no sense at all. She looked at the marked safety deposit boxes and almost directly in front of her was a box marked _Meds._ Opening it, she located all the bottles she would apparently need, all of which were pill containers with their original labeling hastily and sloppily ripped off (there was still remnants of the old label on the outside) and then covered with a new one that had its specific number on it. The only one that was different was a vial with a liquid inside, which along with the pills, was apart of his medications. That she would have to inject.

For a few moments, Lorelai was at a loss of what to do. She felt so uncomfortable giving this man medications she didn't even know the names of. Pierce said they were for his PTSD, but there were so many of them. She was no psychiatrist, but she knew enough to know this seemed a bit excessive. And why would they take the medication names off the bottles? Was she supposed to be so in the dark that she couldn't even know what she was giving her patient? Were they experimental drugs?

The doctor spent a moment deliberating what to do, feeling a knot in her stomach over giving one man so many different meds. But after awhile she began to wonder if the amount really wasn't excessive. This wasn't a normal man, she had to remember. He was a man with modified strength, speed, and metabolism. She had no way and no clue of gauging what the dosage should be for someone like him. And not giving him the meds was almost as equally difficult to try and reason with. If he really needed what they were telling her to give him, she could very well be endangering his life.

The woman sighed. If this man was really the all important asset Pierce was talking about, they wouldn't be actively damaging him, right? She certainly hoped so.

Turning around, Dr. Hellman approached the man once again,

"I'm supposed to give you your meds while I'm here," she told him, her tone apologetic. "Seems like a bit much to me, but they said you were a bit… _super,_ so I guess they would know about your doses better than I would." A thought came to her mind. "Have you eaten yet this morning? I would just rather you eat something before I give you all of it."

The confusion flashed more prominently on his features once more, etching into the lines on his forehead. Whether he surprised by the concerned tone of her voice or by the question itself was unclear, but at least he was showing some kind of emotion now, not being the statue she had been mostly working with. She was happy that he responded once more by shaking his head in the affirmative. They had let him eat this morning.

She smiled, happy to know it wouldn't be a problem.

"Good, that makes me feel much better," the doctor commented. She wanted something in his system before giving him the meds, and if they were truly for anti-anxiety like Pierce said, it shouldn't affect him. She just wanted to play it safe. "I'm going to examine you first before I give you your meds, just so it doesn't screw with your blood pressure."

With that thought in mind, the woman quickly returned to the counter and retrieved the blood pressure cuff, stethoscope, and the chair she was standing on, planning on starting with this portion of her examination first. When she got back to the table, she asked if she was able to place it around his arm and use it. She was answered with a silent outstretching of his right arm, the one she could actually take his blood pressure on. Quickly wrapping the cuff around his arm, she took a seat on the chair and placed the stethoscope in her ears. But just as she was about to begin inflating the cuff, two agents, the two who were outside the door standing guard, walked into the room.

The two took a few strides into the room, stopping just a few feet away from the entrance. While they were still a decent distance away, Lorelai could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Confused, she took the stethoscope from her ears and turned to face them.

"Can I help you?" she asked the two, her eyes darting suspiciously between them. The two just entering the room made her blood pressure rise, and while she steeled herself on the outside, she couldn't deny she felt a little nervous. She didn't trust anyone on this base, especially not those she'd had no contact with before.

"We're here to escort him back to his room," the shorter of the two answered her. Despite the height difference, the two were mirror images of each other; they were clearly both in the same military position, wore the same uniform, had similar toned builds and identical scowls, and even matching buzzcuts. The doctor decided to bite back her comment about them coordinating outfits for the day, just in case it wouldn't be well received.

"I'm not done here," she told them bluntly, wanting them to leave, and hoping her words and tone would be a sign for them to do so. This was her first real encounter with Hydra agents who weren't Pierce or Rumlow. Not impressed with the encounters she had so far with this agency, she was going to try and keep future ones at a minimum.

"That's alright," the taller one replied. "We have no problem waiting."

Both of their positions relaxed then, and suddenly they looked more like frat boys than trained killers. To Lorelai's annoyance, they didn't take the hint and leave. For whatever reason, probably curiosity mostly, and maybe something else, they decided to stay and watch the doctor work. The short one walked over to another chair on the other side of the room, drug it across the floor closer to his partner, turned it around, and took a seat on it backwards, resting his arms and chin on the back of the chair to face her. The taller just went to one of the walls close to her and leaned back into it.

Her and the Asset shared a glance. While it only lasted for a second or two, it easily spoke what they were both feeling; neither wanted the men in there. For a moment Lorelai considered using some doctor-patient shepell to try and get them to leave, but knowing it would most certainly be unsuccessful, she decided not to waste the oxygen.

Shaking her head to herself (and in a way the Asset), she continued with her work, placing the earbuds of the stethoscope back in and beginning to inflate the cuff to check his blood pressure. Placing the chestpiece below the cuff and releasing the pressure, she determined that his blood pressure was within normal ranges. Satisfied to see this, she removed the cuff, mentioned her healthy findings to the patient, and then began to check how his heart and lungs were sounding.

"This'll be a little cold," she whispered to him, warning him to the iciness he would experience from the chestpiece on his back. She was glad she did, because as the cold metal touched his skin, he reacted a little stronger than most people she'd seen, the muscles of his posterior side constricting at the touch. She thought it odd for a moment, but he quickly relaxed after the initial shock, and she was then easily able to check his lungs, asking him to take deep breaths, which he did. After determining his lungs were fine, she removed the piece from his back and warned him before placing it under the front of his shirt, having to get a bit more up close and personal with him. He had a strong heartbeat, she was pleased to hear.

"I'd watch out there, sweetie," the taller of the two jeered suddenly, speaking from his position on the wall about the two's close proximity. He had a certain twang to his voice that Lorelai couldn't immediately identify, but she could definitely hear the sneer his words held. "He likes to play rough."

"Yeah, he causes trouble," the other added, deciding his comment was also necessary.

Feeling the eyes of the agents on her as she continued to check the man over made a shiver go down her spine. But their taunting filled her with rage. _Were any of the agents on this base remotely human?_ she deliberated as she felt her grip on the chestpiece tightening. She knew their words held more weight than just simple teasing. How dare they insult this man right in front of him. She snuck a glance in his direction, looking for his reaction. She couldn't say she was surprised when she didn't see one.

It should have only taken a moment or two to check the Asset's heart, but the scrutiny of the men made her lose her train of thought. When she finally snapped out of it, she saw that the man she still had the chestpiece on was also looking at her, only his gaze was much different than that of the men behind her. Coming to, she quickly removed the piece, declaring his heart was as strong as an ox, for the man's benefit. Instead, the other men in the room latched onto it.

"Hear that, Holtzer," the man on the chair commented to his partner, a chuckle in his tone. "'Strong as an ox.'"

The other replied by giving a hum of approval, that mocking tone present when he even didn't use any words. The woman did her best to ignore them, instead walking back to the counter and retrieving the otoscope.

"I'm going to place this in your ears, okay?" she told the Asset gently, her voice soft so that only he could hear it and the two of them didn't have to listen to any of the smart ass comments the others would have made. She took his side glance as a response that he heard her, and proceeded to get to work.

Examining both ears, she didn't note any signs of irritation or infection. She then walked before him to face him directly. His eyes widened slightly at the new angle she stood at.

"Can you open your mouth wide?"

The man on the table looked at her as if it was the strangest question he'd ever be asked. This expression, ever that solemn look, altered just slightly to show his bewilderment. The doctor smiled slightly, thinking his reaction was a little endearing, if not a little confusing for herself. Had none of the previous doctors ever done this before? This was part of standard check up...

"I just want to take a look at your throat, make sure there aren't any signs of an infection."

He eyed her carefully for a few moments, seeming to try and determine if she was a threat to him. But her intentions appeared to be harmless, just genuinely trying to help him. She hadn't shown him that she meant to harm him yet, and he knew that even if she wanted to, he could take her easily. So he relented, though hesitantly, and slowly opened his mouth for her to examine. Smiling at the man's cooperation, she did a speedy search, finding nothing of concern.

"I'd be careful there, that one bites."

It was the one on the chair who had spoken, the one that had yet to be identified. Lorelai made a strong effort not to bite one of their heads off, trying her best to keep her wild temper in check. _Don't start trouble, don't start trouble…_ She decided to focus her energy on her patient instead. Turning back to the man, she gave him a smile.

"Well, you seem to be in top shape," she reported to the soldier, having covered most of her bases she deemed necessary at the time. All that was left now was to give him his medication. Hellman began to feel a little sense of relief come over her, being that the inspection had gone well. The man on the table hadn't given her any problems, and while the two other additions to the room weren't necessary (or wanted), they hadn't done anything particularly unbearable, though their rudeness and horrid behavior could have been done without.

But just as she thought she would get out of the infirmary without any issues, she quickly discovered she was be sadly mistaken.

"He better be in shape," the one on the wall, Holter as his friend identified him, responded. His friend in the chair hummed in agreement. "We need our hound."

The doctor's spine snapped into a straightened position, the words of the cruel man freezing her in place. Hound. He called this man a _hound._ That was what they thought of him, what his position was to them; he was an animal, meant to be controlled and abused. Suddenly all the irritation she felt towards the two became something stronger. Anger, rage at these two had formed. She felt a heat rush to her face, having no doubt that she was flushed from the emotion spiking her blood pressure at the moment. Dr. Hellman had cracked.

"Oh my _god_ ," the physician gasped, her words barely above a whisper at first. The man on the examination table, the only one close enough to hear her, raised his head towards her. Taking in her reddened skin, bulged eyes, and gritted teeth, his eyes flashed with bewilderment, for the first time actually looked truly alarmed at her transformation. But she didn't seem to even notice his expression, because she was soon turning on her heel, facing her two targets in the room.

The two agents, previously snickering with one another, turned to face the fuming doctor. Both of their expressions faltered slightly, taking in the dramatic change in appearance of the woman before them.

"Will you two _shut UP?"_ Lorelai rebuked the two, her voice growing in volume with every word. "He's a _person_ for Christ's sake, stop talking about him like he's a _dog!_ " She was practically growling by the end of her sentence.

The two agents stared at her, shocked by her outburst, her insubordination to them. They never had an interaction like this with any of the other doctors, or anyone else Hydra kept under duress, and they weren't exactly clear on how to proceed. And to be honest, she looked murderous, and neither of them felt very keen on approaching her.

The unnamed agent was the braver of the two and tried to take control of the situation. From his chair he got to his feet, straightening this back, trying to appear taller and more authoritative.

"What do you think you're doing Hell-"

"I don't need you two here, breathing down my _neck_ and interrupting me with your smartass comments," she swiftly interrupted him, crossing her arms and firmly planting her feet to the ground. "I'll tell you when I'm finished here. Now _leave._ "

Again, they were stunned into silence, her nerve leaving them at a loss. They eyed one another once more, but didn't move from their locations. Their inaction was a catalyst to her reaction.

"I said _LEAVE!"_ Lorelai roared at the men, taking a echoing stomp forward as she did so. Her fists were now clenched, and she vaguely realized she still had the otoscope in her grip. Not exactly a fierce weapon, but she wasn't putting it past herself to fling the object towards one of their inflated heads. Apparently they didn't put it past her either, and they seemed to believe she may be capable of more than just doing that; they didn't want to push it. This woman was still mostly an unknown factor to them. The agents had to tread lightly for now.

Holtzer held up his hands in surrender, speedily straightening from his position on the wall and backing up towards the door to exit. He was joined by the other agent, who also tried to back up, but tripped on one of the legs of the chair he previously occupied. Embarrassed and startled, he stumbled to Holtzer's side and then speedily took the lead to get out of the room. Within a matter of seconds the two had exited the infirmary, closing the door with the loud bang behind them.

There was complete silence in the room for a few moments after half of the room's occupants had left, the remaining bodies in the room making as little noise they could. Lorelai felt frozen in place, not truly believing that she had gotten the agents to leave but thankful none the less. But she couldn't shake the emotions they had flooded her with, all that rage and horror. She had no doubt they would stick with her for the rest of the day, and she would be bristling at anyone she interacted with or came across. However, she quickly realized that that would probably be her reaction to anyone she'd come in contact with on this base anyway.

The doctor didn't look back at the man she had just defended as she stormed over to the counter where his medications were located. She began to angrily shuffle through the drawers to retrieve what she needed, practically slamming the containers of pills on the top surface as she scanned the document to make sure she had what she needed. She retrieved the needed amount of pills and also extracted the correct amount of medication she would need to give him with a sterile needle. Her whole body was shaking, every nerve in her skin wound up. She had to remind herself that this attitude was unprofessional, and that she was about to administer the man's medication via injection so she couldn't be so wired. Lorelai closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. _Stay calm, stay calm..._

Pills, syringe, tourniquet, sterile wipes, and a band aid in hand, Lorelai turned around and walked towards the man awaiting her on the table, facing him for the first time since the altercation. His expression, which she was used to being a bit unreadable, was now plainly confused. His forehead was creased in a line of puzzlement and his eyes, those crystal blue orbs, were regarding her with the most perplexed look she had ever seen. At what he was so bewildered at she was unsure. She tried to pinpoint what the source of his expression was, and she was afraid for a moment that the yelling and excitement had upset him. But she had a strong feeling that wasn't the reason why. Beyond his initial outward emotion of disorientation, she could also see something else; sorrow. She couldn't help but feel her own sadness begin to build in her chest when regarding him.

"Here," the doctor said gently, holding out her hand of narcotics towards the Asset. He quickly accepted them, but did not take his gaze from her, unnerving her a little. A thought struck her. She turned her head around, thankful for the reason to do so, and she spotted what she was looking for; a sink in the corner of the room.

"Let me get you some water," Lorelai began to offer. She had taken a step to walk in the direction of the faucet when the man instead threw back his head and hand and quickly swallowed the handful of pills she had given him, all in one gulp and without missing a beat. The woman was surprised for a moment, even felt a tightness in her throat at the thought of doing that herself, but let it go; he was obviously used to doing it this way. She just made a mental note to bring a cup of water with her next time, so she had a chance to give it to him.

She suddenly remembered she still had the syringe of medicine in her palm. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous about having to administer this one; this was much more invasive than just giving him pills, and she didn't know how he was going to react. The doc held it out to him, showing him the equipment she was about to use.

"Mind if I do this quick?" Lorelai asked him. She didn't feel the need to explain it further; he had to have been used to it by now. He nodded again. Happy he consented, she was about to ask him if he had an arm preference, but then she remembered that he only had one arm she could work with. The other would undoubtedly break the needle, and probably didn't have any vasculature she could work with.

Pulling up the chair nearby, she sat down on his right side, and he immediately held his arm out towards her, giving her permission to proceed. At first glance she was surprised to see that there were no needle marks from previous administrations, but she then remembered his accelerated healing probably took care of any marks left there. She didn't look up at him as she tied the tourniquet to the upper part of his arm and then began to palpate his inner arm to find a vein, or when she gently grabbed his wrist to move his arm to a slightly different angle. But she could tell that he was very intently looking down at her, watching her with that same bemused expression as she found the vein and then began to prep the injection area with a sterile wipe. Giving him a warning (as if she didn't notice him examining her every move), she removed the protective top and stuck the needle into his skin.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," Lorelai spoke to the man as she quickly emptied the barrel of the syringe into his arm. She placed the wipe over the injection site before removing the needle to prevent bleeding. "Hold that there," she added quickly, and he obeyed her simple command. She then opened the bandage and placed it on the site, quickly smoothing it over to ensure it stayed, which he seemed to regard as an oddity. Lastly, she removed the tourniquet, freeing his arm. With all her duties performed, she now looked him in the eye to complete her thought. "They shouldn't treat you like that, it's not right. You don't deserve that."

Taking the empty syringe, band aid scraps, and dirtied wipe with her, Hellman got up and began to walk back to the counter, disposing of the garbage in their proper waste cans. She also spotted her bagel she had set earlier on the counter and threw that away as well, now finding it unsanitary to eat. But as she began moving towards the sink to wash her hands, something stopped her very suddenly in her tracks.

"You're wrong."

The voice that appeared in the room very much startled Lorelai. There was only one other person in the room who could have said that, but she still almost didn't believe it. She looked over to the Asset, shocked to see that he was looking over at her, his face solemn, his posture deflated. She was so taken back at hearing his voice she almost didn't know what to say. The doctor turned her body to face him head on, giving him her full attention.

"I'm sorry?" Dr. Hellman questioned him gently. She heard what he had said; she just didn't know what he meant.

There was a uncomfortable, long moment of silence that followed. He didn't to want to repeat himself, give her any insight into the meaning behind this cryptic message. But she wasn't going to leave until he clarified himself, and after a few unnecessarily long moments, he seemed to realize his was going to be the case. Casting a glance towards the floor, a silent sigh left this body, and he looked back towards her with hollow eyes.

"You're _wrong_."

Lorelai felt the blood leave her face, his meaning hitting her at his simple repetition. She now understood; he felt he deserved the abuse, deserved the horrid treatment being brought upon him by the men working here. His apparent self loathing made her chest swell with sadness for the man. Why he thought this way she couldn't begin to guess, and it was easy to see that he was severely mentally damaged, only existing to be at the beck and call of this horrible organization, do god knows what for them. Her suspicions seemed to be confirmed at his simple words; this was a bad place full of bad men doing bad things. But he was not one of them.

Bad men didn't feel grief like he did. He was a victim here like she was.

Her posture softened, as well as her face.

"No," she answered him calmly, her voice carrying an undeniable conviction. "I don't think I am."

With that, she left the room.

* * *

 _I started writing this before I saw Civil War so some of my interpretation will be different than the movie. Please enjoy! Let me know what you think!_


	3. Rapport

This is what she was worried about now that she was on base. Well, there were plenty of things she was worried about obviously, but this was the one detail she knew was going to be her most persistent problem she had here; she had no idea how to preoccupy herself.

After her examination of the Asset, she found herself with nothing to fill her time for the rest of the day. Or for the next for that matter, if nothing came up she was needed for. Her only scheduled tasks were to examine him once a week, and administer his medicine every two days. No wonder the doctors didn't last long here; being alone with your thoughts for too long in a place like this could be dangerous.

On her way from the infirmary, Lorelai had quickly stopped at the cafeteria for a portable breakfast, wanting something to eat before she retreated back to her room for the day. When she entered the double doors to the space, she was surprised by its glowing appearance. It was probably the only updated location on the entire base, the only place she saw so far that had proper lighting and walls that didn't look water damaged or in need of a coat of paint. Compared to the rest of the building, it was immaculate. It was a small caf; in the front of the room there was a short buffet line, filled with all sorts of breakfast foods; yogurts, fruits, bagels, meats, even pancakes and danishes. To her surprise everything looked really good. She wondered briefly for a moment if Hydra did their own catering. Did they kidnap their chefs too? Or did someone go to culinary school with the intentions of coming out and cooking and baking for an agency of killers?

Along with bringing more questions to mind, it did remind Hellman of something very important she seemed to forget while being here. These agents might be bad and do bad things, but they were still _people_. Some situation in each of these person's lives brought them to this place, to do these horrific acts, to hurt people. Lorelai wasn't one to believe people were inherently evil; she believed that evil was taught to a person or that one can be caught up in the wickedness around them. That being said, she believed everyone should be held accountable for their actions. But it put things in a different perspective knowing that someone like Rumlow, malicious, cold, ruthless, probably enjoys his pancakes and coffee in the morning like everyone else.

Though it was small, there were about ten or so long tables for agents to sit at in the back of the room. There was even a clock on the wall, the first one she saw here, which somehow made her a little more at ease. Now she had a way of knowing how much time had passed, and how many days she was there, roughly. The hands told her it was about 11:30, and being that it was breakfast foods they were serving, she knew they had to be in the AM. There were no windows for her to gauge anything, but she was pretty confident she was correct. She didn't think Hydra was fun enough to have breakfast for dinner days. Assuming whatever they gave her didn't keep her knocked out for over a day's time, that meant she'd only been captured for a little over 12 hours. She was almost a little put out. To her it already felt like she had been there for a few days, not a few hours.

The scene before her almost looked normal, like something you'd see at an office lunchroom. Only she didn't think most offices allowed for all of its employees to be armed.

Fortunately, there were only a few agents seated at the tables when she arrived. Unfortunately, all their eyes turned to her when Lorelai entered the double doors, immediately making her blood pressure rise. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks as some of the agents even blantly turned around in their seats to get a look at her, all curious to see what the newest physician in a long line of many looked like. Her eyes dropped to the floor to avoid their stares.

Quickly rushing to the food, silently praying she wouldn't do something embarrassing like trip over her own feet, she grabbed another bagel, a pastry, and even two slices of bacon, not bothering with getting a plate or silverware. She didn't want to have to bring anything back later, and even if she had, she didn't know what to do with all of it. Taking her food, she quickly exited the room, scampering out like a rabbit knowing a fox is on its trail. The second she stepped back into the hallway she felt relief, now that all the eyes were off her. She was back in her room minutes later.

So there was Dr. Hellman in her current predicament; how was she going to keep herself from going crazy in here? She had nothing in her bag to occupy her time, unless reorganizing her wallet or her medical supplies counted. She could sleep, but even that she couldn't do forever. She didn't feel much like venturing around the base either; she felt that was just asking for trouble, and she didn't want the pleasure of running into anyone.

She ate the food she gathered very slowly, trying to at least make the act of eating last her some time. But she found it a rather difficult task, her hunger that was masked once more by her concern for the man in the room rediscovered after her first bite. She was able to use only about 10 minutes of time. She sat on her cot in annoyance afterwards. You'd think maybe Hydra could spring for a magazine subscription or something.

The idea suddenly popped into her head to scan through the nightstand where all her new clothes and supplies were, to see if there was anything of use she could entertain herself with. She never actually took a good look inside, and she was hopeful she would find something good. The first two drawers with the clothes didn't hold anything, but the bottom had a pleasant surprise; a deck of cards was buried under the mess of hygiene products.

Lorelai actually smiled widely and genuinely. Somehow this deck of cards, looking worn and faded from years of use, was like a flickering light in a dark room. She could at least play as many games of solitaire as she pleased. As boring as that would have sounded to her 13 hours ago, it was like a god-send now. She placed the deck on the top of the nightstand, handling it like a prized artifact.

However, it wasn't the only discovery the physician made at the bottom of the drawer; the woman also found a pocket-sized notepad, pages inside faded yellow from age, with a pen clipped to its cover. The pad was only slightly larger than an index card in length and width. She flipped through the pages quickly, not expecting to find anything of interest, even believing she could use it for her amusement somehow. But to her surprise, there was already writing on its pages. And a lot of it.

Lorelai closed the drawer and brought the book to her cot, taking a seat. Flipping through the pages once again, she took note that no two of the pages were the same; it appeared that there was different handwriting on every sheet. Picking a random page, she read over it quickly, but was confused by its contents.

 _January 10, 2007_

 _Dr. Oliver Ethan Dudley_

 _Riverside County Medical_

 _Coral Hills, Maryland_

 _Tell Jamie I love her._

The woman paused, rereading over the words before her, more carefully this time. She didn't know how to interpret the information given to her, or the second half of the page that had similar but entirely different data. Additionally, to add to the mystery, the first name on the page seemed to be penned in masculine handwriting, but the second name on the bottom was distinctly feminine.

 _May 7, 2007_

 _Dr. Kripa Puri_

 _Mercy Hospital_

 _Arlington, Virginia_

 _To my parents, I love you dearly. I'm so sorry._

She was no closer to figuring out what this meant, the two names too alike in format to get anything out of them. So trying a new approach, Hellman decided to start on the first page, hoping to find if there were any new details she could decipher from. She quickly flipped to the page and read on. What she did find was nothing of what she expected.

 _March 26, 1999_

 _My name is Dr. Mishti Kapoor. I have two children, Sarah and Adele, and a husband, David. I am 45. I work at St. Mary's Memorial Hospital. Yesterday, March 25, I was kidnapped from my home in Columbia Heights, Washington DC. I am unclear of where I am._

 _I am writing this message as proof I was here. I do not know if I will be released. I do not believe this is likely. I pray this note will not be discovered and destroyed._

 _If this message somehow makes it to the outside world, please tell my family I love them._

Lorelai felt the blood leave her face immediately, leaving her a tad dizzy. She was glad she was sitting down. All of a sudden the information before her made sense, realization hitting her like a truck. Under Dr. Kapoor's, there was another message, again in what looked like a woman's cursive but very plainly different from the first.

 _September 3, 1999_

 _I'm following Dr. Kapoor's lead. My name is Dr. Abigail Richards. 34 years old. I have a girlfriend, Natasha. No children. Three days ago (I believe it to be that long) I was taken outside a gas station in Georgetown, Washington DC. I work at Glory Medical. Please tell Tash I love her. And my parents, Susan and Michael._

The current doctor's body began to feel heated, her fingers holding the pad twitching as if the paper was burning her. It might as well have been. She was beginning to feel ill.

This notebook was a guest book of all the doctors who would died on this base.

These messages went on for pages and pages, years spanning by in a matter of lines. Every name that passed made her feel even uneasier than the last, the number of the fallen growing, the messages heartbreaking. Men and women all trying to get messages to their loved ones, their husbands, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, children, parents, friends… Dr. Hellman felt tears come to her eyes, her heart hurting for these people long passed and their families who had no idea what happened to them. But she knew now. She was now privy to this awful secret.

She couldn't stop herself from continuing on, acknowledging these persons' existence: _Dr. Lucille M. Keene, Dr. Howard Wong, Dr. Hugh Clery, Dr. Elizabeth Emerson, Dr. Fatima Shah…._ The list just went on and on. Looking at the dates, she noticed that some, few but some, lasted relatively long; the lengthiest record she could see was held by a Dr. Benjamin Ian Rosales Velez; he made it just under a year during a time in 2003-2004. He was the 'winner' by a large margin. Some of the shortest were changed in a matter of weeks. However, 5 months seemed to be the normal cutting off point.

Lorelai read through all the names in the book, watching as the paragraphs of the first few pages gradually shortened to a just a few lines, simply stating their name, hospital, location, and message to loved ones. The last name she read was that of a Dr. Lucas Turk, his entry dated a little less than three months ago, November 30, 2013. He was from Bethesda. He had a son named Mark and a wife named Julie.

And now it was her turn.

The thought was heavy; she was just the latest in a long line of poor unfortunate souls taken, their lives ruined. Who knew how long this was going on even before Dr. Kapoor in 1999. Just because she was the first one to start the book doesn't mean she was the first one captured. Hydra was an old agency; who knows when this horrid practice began. It was started long before Lorelai, and if she died, it would continue long after her.

That thought, despite its morbidity, fueled something in the woman. It gave her a new zeal for life, even with what little she had right now. She would not just be another name in this book for the next person to read. She would not be another lost paragraph. She was going to honor these fallen friends and get their messages out there. She was going to end this horrible cycle. The physician didn't know how she was going to accomplish this, but she was determined, and a determined Lorelai Hellman was not to be trifled with. She was going to _live._

Taking the pen attached to the cover, she began to write her own message in the book of the damned. She silently hoped that penning her name wouldn't seal her fate as well, but she wasn't going to let that happen, she was sure of it.

 _February 19, 2014_

 _Dr. Lorelai Langley Hellman_

 _Benjamin Franklin University Hospital_

 _Southwest Waterfront, Washington DC_

She knew exactly what her message to the outside world was going to be.

 _I will be the last._

In the end, sleep was what she chose. Staring at the four walls in her room was beginning to bore her, and sometimes she felt like the space was closing in on her, the souls of the lost men and women weighing heavily on her mind. So she decided that if she couldn't escape from this room, she would at least escape to her mind for a little while. She was pleasantly surprised when she began to drift away as soon as her head hit the pillow. Her sleeping, while long, was dreamless.

* * *

The doctor found little ways to preoccupy herself when she finally awoke. She was hungry once more when she roused herself, so she made another trip to the cafeteria, discovering that it was already 6 at night. She was a thankful, actually, happy this day was almost over. She then returned to her room with her retrieved food and played solitaire as she ate the fries she picked up. After a few hours of playing herself with the cards, she returned to bathroom to give herself around sink shower, not rushing herself as much as yesterday, but not taking her time either. She still wasn't comfortable with the thought of using the shower. She figured she could try and wash her hair tomorrow. She was also able to brush her teeth, the hygiene making her feel better all around. She was soon back in bed afterwards.

Even without a clock, Lorelai could tell it was early in the morning when there was a loud, urgent knocking outside her door, startling her from her sleep and making her bolt upright. Her heart beating wildly out of her chest, she quickly exited her cot, tripping as she struggled to release herself from the sheets, and stumbled to the door. For a brief moment she wondered why Rumlow had actually abided by her request and knocked. But when she opened the door, she discovered that it wasn't Rumlow on the other side, but a tall, sandy haired agent she hadn't seen yet. He was dressed like the rest of them and had a gun very openly strapped to his side, but his tone was much less anxiety inducing than the other agents she'd met so far.

"You're needed immediately, there's been an incident," he explained to her at once, no nonsense in his voice. Something must have really been wrong. "I'm here to escort you."

She nodded at the agent. Turning around and quickly going into her room, she picked up her medical bag and walked barefoot right out the door, eyes still heavy with sleep. Hydra agents or not, she was still a doctor and duty bound to help whoever the injured was to the best of her ability. That included not wasting any time getting to that person. They quickly set off down the hallway.

She was surprised to find she wasn't being escorted to the infirmary, the pair passing the left they would have made to go there. Instead they walked even farther down the hall and to the right, where a large amount of commotion was taking place. She could hear a group of people talking ahead of them. Odd, especially at a late hour.

They turned another corner to the left, and a herd of agents became immediately present, at least five in her sight all crowding around a doorway a few yards away and looking inside. She recognized none of them. Hellman picked up her step, needing to get to her patient, whoever it was. Time is one of the most important factors in patient care, and she was wasn't even informed of what the injury was. He or she could be bleeding out on the floor for all she knew. When the group saw her coming, they began to part for her immediately, wasting no time in letting her in.

When she entered the room, the first person she saw Rumlow, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stood close to the doorway, blocking her view of the area. He appeared to be the only agent in the room, but he didn't seem to be injured himself. She went to him immediately, walking in front of him to get his attention.

"What happened?" she questioned the agent promptly. "Who's hurt?"

He simply gestured with a nod to the corner of the room. Lorelai spun around on her heel.

Sitting on a cot in the right corner of the room was the Asset, his eyes glued to the floor, his left, metal arm gripping the side of the bed. While she couldn't see his face directly, his body language clearly indicated he was in distress; his firm grip, his hunched position, the tenseness of his body... Something was wrong. She didn't see any blood or wounds present however, and that was a good sign.

Dr. Hellman immediately set her step for the man, walking over to the cot and quickly kneeling in about three feet in front of him. She keep a little distance so he didn't feel claustrophobic and lash out, hurting her or himself more. But she needed him to look at her, and if he was hurt, she didn't have the time to take the ginger steps she did last time.

"Hey stranger, sorry you have to see me so soon," she started off, trying to lighten the mood if possible. She wasn't surprised that it didn't get him to say anything, but she saw it as a success anyway when he looked up at her, those glowing blue eyes staring right back at her. His face was as hard as the last time she saw it, not willing to give up any emotion. But upon a closer inspection, she saw that his jaw was tightly set. He was in definitely distress. She gave the man a quick look over, still not seeing any blood. Was there a problem internally? "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

It wasn't a shock when she didn't receive an answer. He just continued to stare her down at her spot on the floor, his expression unwavering.

The doctor sighed slightly in frustration. She needed to make a connection with this man somehow. She couldn't help him if he didn't help her. At the very least he could tell her what the problem is; that would make her work _so_ much easier, and save him whatever pain he was in. Trying to accelerate things a bit, she reached her hand forward just slightly, trying to have some kind of contact, maybe begin an examination like before.

With incredibly speed, the man on the cot grabbed her wrist with his metal hand before she could examine whatever damage she was looking for. His hold was firm, but not painful, and there wasn't a doubt in Hellman's mind she would never be able to get out of it if she tried. The action startled her no doubt, but when the initial shock subsided, she found herself not scared but instead struck by the detail and intricacies of the hand that held her. She didn't believe this could be considered a prosthetic; there were no kinks, only fluid motion. There was no hesitation in his movements either. It moved like a natural arm. Whatever it was, it was years, _decades_ ahead today's marketable pieces. This truly was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. And it was beautiful.

"Wow," she whispered in awe after a few moments of examination, eyes still glued to the arm. His face twitched slightly at her approval. She didn't know how to interpret that. She looked him in the eyes once more. There was no anger in them, only stress and sadness.

Suddenly behind her, Lorelai heard weapons being cocked and loaded. She turned her head around to see all the agents, Rumlow included, pointing their guns at the man. To be honest, they made her more nervous than the person they were pointing their firearms at, who still had an unbreakable grip on her arm.

"Oh, _calm down!"_ she hissed at the group, angry that this was their first response. "Go find something else to shoot at, you all obviously did enough damage here!" She had no doubt that whatever the problem was, it had been brought on by the group behind her.

Some of them exchanged glances, not knowing whether or not to back down. Their inaction angered her more and had her practically growling at the men now. "Put those _away!_ If I have to stitch one of you up from a bullet wound, I'm doing it without painkillers!" She then looked to Rumlow specifically, eyeing him down with a foul look she knew he'd understand. If he put his weapon down, the rest of them would. They held this staring contest for a few moments, but thankfully she watched as Rumlow holstered his gun, the rest of the pack awkwardly following suit as he did. She nodded to him, her way of thanking him without thanking him, because that was the _last_ thing she wanted to say to him right now.

Now she was able to concentrate on the man who needed her.

Turning back to the Asset, she made an observation; he was gripping her with his left hand, not his right. Though his left arm was undoubtedly the stronger of the two, she had a hunch it wasn't his dominate one. So it was strange that that was the one he used, especially since he would know he would be able to overpower her with either hand. Following her inkling, she glanced at this right arm, and upon further inspection, she noticed that it was just kind of hanging at his side, the angle slightly unnatural.

Eureka.

Lorelai looked him in the eyes once more, trying to convey with all she had that she was truly there to help him, despite what the others intended. She was different. She wasn't them.

"I'm going to help you, okay?" she gently told the man on the bed. While his sudden action had made her jump, she couldn't say she was particularly scared of him. He was in pain. People lash out when they're in pain. She had seen it enough times at the hospital to know that was true. She'd been hit and kicked multiple times in the course of her term at Ben Franklin, even bit once. She wasn't afraid of this man's instincts at the moment, she just had to appeal to them.

"You can trust me, okay?" she continued on, voice barely above a whisper but as powerful as a roar. "I don't know what these men did to you, but I can see you're in pain. I _promise_ you I'm here to help. _Please_ give me a chance here."

The Asset held her gaze for a few moments, seeming to weigh his options. He was very quiet as he did so, making her believe he wasn't going to comply with her. But then, something flickered across his features all of a sudden, softening his face and making him break his eye contact with her. She hoped it was acceptance. His eyes and head bobbed to the floor momentarily and quickly rose to meet hers again. He released her wrist, returning his uninjured arm to his side. She took as a sign of his blessing.

Dr. Hellman smiled at him encouragingly. "Okay, let's see what we have here."

Lorelai went to her feet, quickly going to his right arm where she was more than positive the problem was.

"Is this where the pain is?" she confirmed with the man, and she was pleased to receive an immediate nod of the head from him. She could see from the corner of her eye a stir among the group in the doorway. Why, she was unclear.

He was wearing the same t-shirt he was in earlier in the day, so she was able to access the injury easily. She lifted his right sleeve up gingerly and eyed the area. Not to her surprise, she saw bruising and swelling already beginning to appear. She also saw that his shoulder looked deformed, a bump in the back where it shouldn't have been.

"Can you move your arm at all?" the doctor questioned him. Silently he tried to shift the arm, but his movement was extremely limited, and she could see his whole body tensing as he did. It was definitely a dislocated shoulder. She had to hand it to him; this type of injury often reduced grown men to tears, but the only way she was showing his own pain was through his body language, which he couldn't really control.

Unlike the majority of the dislocations she treated, this was an posterior dislocation, meaning his shoulder was popped out of its socket towards the back. She could tell because of where the deformity in his shoulder was, seeing that the head of his humerus was showing behind the socket. It was very rare that an injury like this occurred from anything other than direct, forceful hits to the front of the arm, or violent pulling of the arm backwards. Both of those prospects had her fuming.

Hellmen left the man's side for a moment, pulling up a chair so she could sit closer to him. She knew exactly how she was going to treat him and needed to get up close. She took a seat in front of him.

"So, your shoulder is definitely posteriorly dislocated," she informed him calmly, biting back some of the bile she tasted from the thought of how he got his injury. _These people are mad._ "Posterior dislocations are a little harder to fix, but I'm going to use my usual method, so we're about to get a little up close and personal." He didn't seem to like the sound of that and eyed her cautiously. She didn't blame him. She was sure he had enough of up close and personal for the day. "You're trusting me, remember?" The doc turned around in the chair slightly, suddenly addressing the mass of agents lingering in the doorway, who she now saw were intently watching her. At least she didn't have to get their attention. "Can someone get some ice?" the doc called to the group. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw one of them actually leave to get some.

Lorelai then faced the Asset once more.

"Okay, this is going to feel a little weird, but I promise this'll work," she reassured him. "Ready?" He nodded. "Great. I'm going to need to you sit up straight and place your elbow at a 90 degree angle. Can I help you do that?" He nodded once more. Gently taking his arm, she adjusted it slightly to the correct position she wanted. She smiled at the patient. "Excellent. Now just try and relax. I know that won't be easy at the moment, but the more you do, the easier this should be."

She slid her chair a bit closer to him. Then slowly reaching towards him, this time with no interference, Lorelai got to work. She began to massage the right side of this shoulder, starting with the trapezius, then working her way down slightly to the deltoid of his right arm, and lastly the biceps brachii. She continued to do this a few times, trying to relax the muscles and careful not to elicit any pain.

As she continued to simply massage his shoulder, the man gave her a questioning look, apparently expecting her to be doing something else, or at the very least change up her routine. She chuckled a bit, understanding his confusion. It wasn't exactly the usual method for shoulder reduction.

"I know, it doesn't seem like I'm doing much," she agreed, "but I prefer this method for treating dislocations. It's called the Cunningham method; it's less painful for patients and since we don't have pain meds at the moment, this is a perfect situation to use it."

Not taking her hand away from the man, Hellman turned in her chair and called to the front of the room once more.

"Anybody going to come over and hold his hand while I do this?" she called to the group of agents, her hand never stopping its work. Some of the faces of the men grew uncomfortable, two even taking a slight step back. She shook her head at them as she turned back to the Asset, a smile playing on her lips.

"Wimps," she whispered to the man and herself. She thought that maybe she saw the ghost of a grin on his lips at that comment, but she couldn't be sure.

"My brother did this to his arm when he was younger, he fell out of a tree," Lorelai began to tell the man before her, not taking her eyes off his shoulder. "He wanted to get to the top of an old oak that was in our front yard, even after my parents told him no. Well, he tried to do it anyway, big shocker there. Luckily he only fell- There? Better?"

Her patient had immediately lost the tension in his body as she had felt the movement of the ball going back into its socket. There was no sound or spasm as with other methods, which was another reason she preferred this one; it was much less dramatic. The deformity of his shoulder vanished as well. Upon feeling the pain stop, he actually seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

The man on the cot looked at the doctor, slightly in awe at her and the immediate alleviation of his pain. All her talking had distracted him from what she was doing, allowing him to relax more and accelerate the process, and he now realized that was the point. She smiled that he was now feeling so much better, happy to have helped.

"There, that didn't take long at all. How does that feel, better?" she asked him, though she didn't have to. It was written all over his face. He nodded once more, this time with a little more motion. She knew he was thankful then. "Excellent."

Lorelai did a few light moves with the arm to make sure he had some of his range motion back, but she didn't want to do too much. She knew he was going to be sore tomorrow. She then turned to her bag at her side and went through it to find what she was looking for; a sling. "Now, normally I would get you an xray, but I don't think that's available to me at the moment. But I want you to have this on for a little." His face immediately crinkled in annoyance upon looking at the object in her hand; he did NOT want to wear that. She wasn't really surprised. It would really limit him. "Look, it's not forever. In fact for you it'll probably only a day or two, a few tops."

He gave her a narrowed look, clearly miffed. However, it didn't hold any malice or aggression behind it, making his pouting look kind of endearing. She bit back the grin she could feel coming to her face.

"Please?"

He practically rolled his eyes at her. But all the same, he shifted his right side towards her, allowing her to place the sling on him. Smiling, she did just that, adjusting his arm and putting it in securely.

"Is that ice here yet?" One of the agents began to walk over to her, handing her a full plastic bag. Taking it with a nod, she gently placed the bag on the Asset's shoulder. Then reaching down, she gingerly took his metal hand, bringing it up to hold the ice in place. She was happy he allowed her to do it, and was surprised to see him looking up at her when she met his eyes again. They looked different to her, somehow a little less hollow. She hoped that was a good sign.

When he was all taken care of, she straightened her position, looking down at him and picking up her medical bag.

"Okay, I think you're all set for now. Hopefully you won't need to see me like this for awhile." He nodded at her once, but she could see his eyes fall a little then. He seemed to believe that wouldn't be the case. She didn't really believe it either. "Try and get some sleep," was her last piece of advice. She gave the man one last smile, and then began to head back towards the door.

Dr. Hellman had all intentions of just leaving the room quietly with no fuss, walking past all the guards and going straight back to bed. But as she turned around, the first man she laid eyes on was Rumlow, back in that cocky stance of his, arms crossed, body tall, nose in the air, and her blood immediately boiled. Instead of storming out the door, she stormed up to him. She should have known she wouldn't be able to contain herself.

"What did you _do_ to him?" Lorelai demanded of the man, her voice a low hiss, her eyes bulging with anger. She kept her voice as quiet as she could manage, not wanting the other men to hear what she was saying.

Rumlow didn't even give her the courtesy of looking down at her. He just stayed in place, his body unchanged, watching the Asset with a hard, unwavering expression.

"Thank you, Dr. Hellman, that will be all right now," the agent answered her, his monotone response infuriating her. She understood his hint but certainly didn't take it.

"His arm was dislocated _backwards,"_ she continued on with a fury, having difficulty keeping her voice down in front of the other agents. "That means one of you either hit him that hard, or pulled it out behind him! What the hell _happened?"_

Now she had Rumlow's attention, but certainly not in a good way. In a fluid, slow motion, the man, not moving his feet or uncrossing his arms, turned his upper body to face her, his new position bringing him eye level with the doctor. Their faces were mere inches apart, and the agent's eyes and features were dark, haunting. It took everything Lorelai had not to back up, but she didn't want to look weak or frightened in front of him. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't, though.

"I said, that will be all, _Dr. Hellman."_ His voice was low and menacing and sent an intense chill down her spine. He kept his eyes on hers, unblinking. She was afraid to blink herself; she felt that in that short time she might not open her eyes again.

After a moment or two of keeping his stare, the woman took a step back and left the room, feeling the eyes of everyone behind her watching her leave.

* * *

The next two days went by uneventfully. She spend them much like her first day; playing solitaire, sleeping, more card games, only making trips outside her door to get food or use the restroom. She washed her hair, which was a first, and it made her feel very well, finally clean. She was happy she wasn't feeling as anxious as the had when she first arrived. Not comfortable per say, but not so on edge.

However, she had a plan for this day ahead of her. Though tomorrow was the day she was scheduled to dispense the Asset his medications, Lorelai wanted to get a chance to look at his arm, being that she hadn't done so yet. She was especially eager to look at it because of the violence associated with his type of injury; she wanted to make she there was no permanent muscle or ligament damage. It takes a lot of force to pull a man's arm out from behind him. She prepared for the day, changed into new clothes, put on some shoes, and grabbed her medical bag, heading out the door.

She stopped in the caf before she began to walk in his direction, taking two bagels, wrapping them in napkins, and slipping them into her bag. She then headed off in the direction of his room, hoping she didn't get lost along the way. She wasn't exactly certain of where she was going, but she was sure she could find her direction. The doctor didn't think he would be in the infirmary, but she took a look inside just in case. When she found the room empty, she quickly exited, and went off.

It took her a bit of backtracking, but eventually Lorelai found his room again, the dead giveaway being that an armed guard was standing outside of the door. She recognized the agent as the man who brought her the ice the other day when she asked for it. She didn't think she was being particularly quiet, but it seemed to take a while before the man realized she was coming towards him down the hall. Then when she got close enough to him and came into his line of sight, he appeared to jump in his place slightly, evidently surprised someone was right there with him. He was apparently off in lala land before her arrival. _Hydra: only the best and brightest agents available._ He then seemed to become very confused, his face crinkling and his lips pursing.

"Umm… I didn't hear that you were coming…" He didn't seem to know how to proceed, and took a moment to wrack his brain. Was he informed that she was coming? Did he miss something? Rumlow would have his ass if he did.

Watching his bewildered expressions, the doctor was very easily able to see he was trying to remember if her arrival was planned. He really looked like he was struggling to sort through that _complex_ mind of his, so she decided to help him out and relieve him of his agony.

"Don't short a fuse, I'm just here to check his arm. You know, the one you guys ripped from his socket the other day?" Lorelai felt the need to clarify, if snidely, being that this man wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. At her words, the agent rolled his eyes at her, now understanding that she had just shown up on her own.

"I wasn't told to let you in," he told her plainly, now getting his cool back knowing he wasn't in trouble.

Lorelai's eyes narrowed at the agent in front of her. "Oh, sorry, didn't know I needed permission from _Bum_ low and the bro brigade to see my _patient_."

 _Shut your mouth, Hellman, you still need to get in the room._ She could hear her subconscious trying to talk some sense into her, scolding her to take a moment and cool herself down. She had to remind herself that if she go too snippy, he might not let her in. She needed to control her temper and her tone. "Look, I'm just here to make sure his arm is healing properly. They didn't tell you to let me in, but they didn't tell you _not_ to either. I just came over."

The man stared her down, wondering whether or not to consider her reasoning. Her snark didn't earn her any points with him, but her job was to keep the Asset and the rest of the base alive and operating. He didn't feel that he should impede that. She did have a point too; there weren't any orders _not_ to let her enter the room. Plus he didn't want his small rebellion to bite him in the ass later.

"I'll get someone to go in with you." Usually the doctors had some kind of supervision with them in case the Asset would lash out.

"I don't need anyone to come down," Dr. Hellman countered him immediately. "I'll be fine. I can handle him."

The agent raised his brow at the woman, and abruptly chuckled at her. The woman's head flinched slightly in confusion. She was a bit startled at his actions.

"Yeah, let's see how well you can handle him when he has that shiny, tin arm around your neck," he stated humorously (though she didn't find it funny), still laughing at her. "Have fun Hellman."

With that, the man stepped aside and allowed her to enter the room. Biting back a smartass comment that involved _her_ hands being around _his_ neck, she simply knocked on the door, waited a moment, turned the knob, and walked forward.

Lorelai walked in the room slowly, not wanting to startle the man if he was sleeping, hoping her knock was enough to alert him of her arrival. Upon entering the room, she set her eyes towards the right corner of the space where his cot was the other day. It was there she found the man lying on his bed, sitting upwards slightly on one of his arms. When she first entered he saw that his face was an indifferent glazed look, but when he realized it was her that entered, his blank expression changed to surprise. He slowly sat up to an upright position on the cot.

"Hi," she greeted him, her tone pleasant even if it was a little awkward. She closed the door behind her and walked further into the room, continuing to speak. "I came to see how your arm was doing. That was a rough injury you had."

The doctor made a very sudden realization. As her eyes landed on his injured right arm, she noticed that that was the arm he had originally put his weight on when she first entered. It also snapped into her mind that he wasn't wearing the sling. Her face narrowing, she gave the room a quick look over and saw that the sling was on the floor next to his cot. She crossed her arms, giving him a raised brow.

"Did you keep it on for even an hour?"

He looked at her with a slightly guilty expression, following her eyes and seeing the object on the floor. She could see something playing on his lips, a smirk perhaps.

She sighed deeply. "Well, you're putting weight on it, that's a good sign I guess," she commented dryly, leaving the subject go. Obviously he didn't think he needed it. Eyeing the chair she used previously in the corner of the room, she pulled it back to his cot, wanting a chance to get up close with the seemingly healed arm. As she moved the furniture over, he sat up and at the edge of his bed. The chair in place, she stayed out of it for a moment, standing instead.

"Mind if I-" She didn't even need to finish before he had shifted the arm in her direction. Lorelai smiled at him and chuckled. "Someone's in a helpful mood today."

Gently taking his arm, she first checked for any injuries in the deltoid area, finding no swelling and minimal bruising present. The discoloration of the skin was so light it looked as though he had just bumped his shoulder on something, instead of having his arm ripped from its socket. While the knowledge that he had accelerated healing was always present, the doctor had to keep reminding herself of this fact. She still had no way of gauging just how fast it was, but even this speed seemed surprising and unrealistic to her. He sustained a serious injury. Posterior dislocations took even longer to heal than anterior dislocations most of the time. _More guys like him and I'd be out of a job..._

Dr. Hellman then gently took hold of his arm and began to extend, flex, and rotate it, testing his range of motion and watching him closely for any signs of discomfort. The man's face was mostly unreadable as usual, but his body language didn't show any inkling he was in pain. However, his arm was rigid beneath her touch. It seemed he wasn't very comfortable with contact.

"Are you feeling any pain, any soreness?" He shook his head in the negative. She nodded approvingly. "Well, it seems you're all good to go, which is _unbelievable,_ but I guess I'm just going to have to get used to that." She took a seat and then pushed the chair she was sitting in a foot or two back from where she had it, giving him more room to breathe. She didn't want him to feel like she was closing in on him.

Reaching into her medical bag, Lorelai pulled out the two bagels she acquired earlier, handing one towards the man on the cot. "Breakfast?"

The man's eyes landed on the object she was holding out toward him, then back on her. His features showed a great amount of confusion and hesitation, something Lorelai really wished he wouldn't. She wanted him to know that there was nothing he needed to hesitate about with her for concern of his safety; she was a force for good.

"It's just a bagel. I take it you're not gluten intolerant, right? No poppy seed allergy? You've probably eaten today already, but I take it increased metabolism means increased appetite."

The doctor was glad when upon her reassurance, he gingerly took the food from her hand. Unwrapping it from the napkin, he took a large bit of the bagel, looking somewhat content. That was a start.

Lorelai then sat back in her chair, silent for a few moments as she began to take bites of her own meal. She hoped this breaking bread together would somehow open the man up, grow some trust between them. She had had difficult patients before, but none so closed off like he was. She had a feeling in her stomach that she would be making a lot of trips to see him for reasons other than his medications and examinations, and she wanted to build some kind of rapport with this man.

The two sat in this comfortable silence for a few moments, each enjoying their bread. Then, with a few bits still left in her hand, Lorelai decided to speak up, hoping she wasn't breaking the peace too soon.

"So…" She hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was the proper question to ask, but knew she was committed now. "Are you going to tell me what your name?"

The man paused his chewing for a moment, his body seeming to still in that statue-like formation she had been introduced to their first day together. Everything about him seemed to stop; his breathing, his blinking, his tiny facial movements, maybe even his pulse all together. He didn't want to look at her. The doctor almost kicked herself, having hoped this wasn't going to be his reaction and mad she had driven him back to this state. She felt in that moment she had taken two steps back from her one step forward. But it was too late now, and, hoping for the best, she wasn't going to given up.

There was a long uncomfortable silence all throughout the room, but after what seemed like forever, but was really only a few extended moments, he finally made some kind of movement; he blinked a few times and shifted in his seat, now looking down on the ground. Everything was going okay until she asked that. He was uncomfortable because truly, he didn't know who he was, only what Hydra made him to be.

He didn't know anything else; maybe this is what he always was. A killer. Maybe he was too old, too far gone to remember when this all began for him. Maybe he chose this life for himself. Maybe this life was punishment for his past sins he doesn't remember carrying out.

When he was awaken, the Asset was unsurprised to learn that Dr. Turk was no longer residing on the base. Long before he had been put back on ice, the doctor had been exhibiting signs of acute stress and anxiety, and he and the rest of the base knew he wasn't going to last much longer under the agency's 'employment'. The man never settled into the new environment. Most of the doctors were able to create some kind of a sense of normality after a few weeks adjusting, but he was not one of them. It was probably because the man had a wife and child searching for him. The ones with families were always the most difficult to calm; they lasted the shortest. He remembered the doctor begging the agents to release him so he could see them, trying to appeal to their humanity. Unfortunately for Turk, they didn't have any.

The Winter Soldier wasn't wiped before he was placed under; evidently he didn't do anything to deserve that this time, so the memories of Turk were still there. From what he remembered, the man was slipping. His hands began to shake, his mind began to wander, he wasn't eating. This man's role here had run its course. He had been there for about two months when the soldier was put in the chamber once more. How long he had remained after or what had been done to him was a mystery. The man didn't feel much like finding out.

Not that he had any particular attachment to this doctor. He didn't have one to any of them. Most of them he didn't even remember. There were so many to have walked along these halls unwillingly, both men and women, young, old, from what seemed like every ethnicity, language, religion, and creed. Hydra certainly didn't discriminate. If you could get the job done, you were as good as any.

The Asset had learned of the new doctor as he was being escorted to the infirmary for his first examination out of the ice. Much to the pleasure of the other agents, this doctor was a woman, young and attractive. It had been awhile since someone younger had been here. Not that it mattered to him. None of it did. He was indifferent to it all.

Indifference; that was all he really seemed to feel. He didn't remember ever feeling anything else. Even during the rush of a mission, he was indifferent to the target, to the cause he was working for, or the man or causalities lost along the way. The only time he felt anything else during a mission, whether it be anger or intrigue, was when he was challenged, when something didn't go to plan and new action needed to be taken. But that was rare. Missions he was directly involved with were very unlikely to fail.

It was then and during his nightmares that he felt like he was a person again, felt emotion. When he felt fear, especially when he felt fear, he felt like something other than whatever he was now, something familiar but a million miles away. He didn't remember what happened in the nightmares most of the time. And normally he would be awoken from his bad dreams by a team of agents claiming he was getting out of hand and had to subdue him somehow. But at least he woke up feeling something. He didn't fight back when they came. Because like most everything else, he was indifferent to the aggression.

What was a beating to him? Pain never lasted, a bruise would heal in hours. He's even received knife wounds from these men that recovered in a few days without proper treatment.

The man thought it strange sometimes how his position in this agency could alter so drastically. During missions, he was one of the leaders, a commander giving orders to these men. Inside base walls, he was a whipping boy.

That was also why he found it so strange, so _outlandish_ that this woman was acting this way with him, so… kind. Kindness; this was a foreign topic to him. He didn't believe there was a time when he received anything like it. He hardly believed he knew what it even was anymore. And yet here was this woman taking care of him, _genuine_ care, not just the clinical patching up he received before. The other doctors, the ones he could recollect, didn't have this warmth he felt from her. They grouped him in with the agents of Hydra that took them, brought them into this slavery. What they didn't realize was that he was in the same boat as them, just under a different sail. But Hellman, she asked him questions, looked him in the eye, requested his permission before beginning her examinations. She smiled. She checked up on him. Yelled at agents demanding that he be treated as a person. She brought him food.

He needed to shut her out. Anything that was a threat to his indifference was a threat to himself, to his means of survival. He knew his indifference was what kept him going in here, kept him alive.

But he couldn't shut her out. That was a problem.

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't want her to leave, even though his body was full of conflicted emotions. He felt calmer and cared for when she was present, but any contact she made with him still set him on edge; usually if he was being touched, he was being hit, and that skin memory was difficult to get rid of. And she kept asking him to _trust her;_ he wanted to, he could feel that deep inside him. But he never experienced trust before. He trusted no one.

Whatever side of him she was appealing to was somewhere in him, he could feel it. He just didn't know what would become of it.

In his musings, the man seemed to realize that she wasn't going to let this go, and that she wasn't going to leave without an answer. He didn't want to give her one, but there was something about the way she was watching him with those light eyes of hers; she wasn't demanding an answer from him. Just asking. There was that kindness again, stirring things inside him he needed to bury.

It was a long time before she was able to get an answer from him. His eyes didn't leave the floor.

"I don't have one."

Lorelai's body deflated slightly, firstly because this wasn't answer she was looking for, and secondly because the answer made her sad inside. She hurt knowing this man felt so little of himself. But she thought he wasn't being forthcoming for different reasons.

"Look, I don't care what they've told you or make you think," the doctor persisted, leaning forward in her chair slightly, but still keeping her distance. "You have to have a name, I know you do."

He hesitated to respond once more. She wasn't understanding. But how could she? This wasn't a situation she was accustomed to, no one really was. He dared to look her in the eyes to clarify his point.

"I don't remember it."

Dr. Hellman paused, swearing that her heart had missed a beat when she processed his words. At first she thought he was messing with her, switching back to being difficult for whatever reason. But one look in his eyes and she knew, there was no kidding around here. He truly couldn't remember his own name. _His own name…_

A million scenarios raced through her head as to why this was, how he possibly couldn't remember such a key part of his identity. Was it some kind of injury, something to the head most predictably, that caused such traumatic consequences? A manifestation of his supposed PTSD? Psychological trauma? That felt like her most viable explanation. She had no doubt that man suffered a lot; his metal arm was glaring evidence of that.

Her also mind flashed back to his medications for a moment. Was is a bad combination of the pills? Was something like this possible? She of course knew of mental fogginess and other like symptoms that were possible from medicine, and episodes like blackouts from drugs such as roofies. But something as dramatic as memory loss? She didn't have an answer.

But while a tidal wave of thoughts raced through her head, Lorelai couldn't get a seem to get an intelligible statement from her lips.

All the physician could manage was: "Oh."

Lorelai's thoughts of medical inquiry lulled for a moment, channeling more to her human side. She couldn't even imagine not knowing her own name. No wonder he was so dehumanized; he didn't even have an identity. His entire being was whatever they told him it was. That wasn't right; she was going to stand for it.

"Well I'm not calling you 'asset' like the rest of these brutes around here do," the doctor stated plainly, yet with a lot of sincerity. The man met her eyes quickly, taken back by her words. "You're a person, you exist. Even objects have names. You need something."

The 'Asset' felt that stirring again in his chest. Dare he provoke it? He almost didn't. But truly, how would this hurt him? How would this be different than any other beating he received should this go badly. With this thought in mind, he took a chance and gave the woman his full attention.

Lorelai thought of the best way to go about this. Then a rather simple idea popped into her head. She hoped it wasn't too simple for the grand task at hand.

"What if I just... said some random names, whatever is on the top of my head, and have you pick what sounds good?" she suggested, a small smile on her features. "We can pick something you like. Or maybe I'll get it right and it'll spark something. How does that sound?"

 _We_. The soldier didn't know why, but her saying 'we' stuck with him. It was never a we. _He_ was to carry out an order, _he_ was to eliminate a target, _he_ was to do what _he_ was told. We was new to him. And it didn't feel bad.

He nodded weakly at the offer. If anything it would keep her here longer.

She smiled brightly, happy there was a plan of action. These smiles were new to him too. He couldn't help but feel encouraged a bit, but didn't want to bring himself too deep into it.

"Okay, so where do I begin?" She contemplated her own question for a moment, but then decided not to think about it too much and just started to say the first things off the top of her head. "Matthew."

She was answered with a shake of the head in the negative.

"Mark?"

Another shake.

"Luke?"

"John?"

Suddenly Lorelai began chuckling at herself after she ran through the first four names, realizing quickly why she said them. Her Catholic schooling was showing, she told herself, being that the names were that of the four Gospel writers, and that she had been taught many times, in that order, of their stories. While she knew that Sister Martina would be very pleased, she saw that her new friend didn't seem to notice. But it didn't matter whether or not he cared, and at least it gave her a place to start.

Sticking with the theme, and knowing that these names were common enough anyway, she began to rattle off a few more religious icons she had heard so much about during her nine years in a uniform, starting with some of the more popular saints that many of her own classmates had been named after.

"Peter?"

"Thomas?"

"Simon?"

"Jude?"

"James?"

As small as it was, this name got a reaction out of the statue man. It was so small it could have gone unnoticed to an eye not paying attention, but Lorelai was making it her job to so, especially since she knew he wouldn't tell her outright, even if he did recognize something. It was a quick narrowing of his face that disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared, but it didn't appear with any of the other names she had mentioned.

"James?" she repeated, continuing to watch him closely. "Does James sound familiar?"

It was another moment before he responded, but it was much quicker than his previous response time.

"I don't know," he responded to the woman, his voice quiet, but able to be heard. "It doesn't sound… right, but it didn't sound… wrong, either."

That name had triggered something, his explanation to her mirroring exactly what he was feeling. The name was familiar to him somehow, attached to him in a way he wasn't quite sure. Listening to the other names he felt nothing, but when this one left her lips, there was a _click_ in his head, alerting him of its importance. It was like a tip of the tongue feeling but in his mind, and he couldn't work through it to get the answer.

Dr. Hellman was shocked and thrilled to get such a response from him. It was the most she had gotten from him yet, and to her was a big step forward. _James._ It was as likely as any of the other names.

"Really, that quick?" she questioned, a chuckle of delight coming from her. "Not going to lie, thought it would take longer. Not that I'm complaining, that's great. I think that's going to work just great."

With that, the doctor sat up in her chair a little straighter and, with a smile, held out her hand to the man, _James._

"It's nice to meet you, James," the woman 'greeted' him. "Please, call me Lorelai."

James looked at her outstretched hand for a short moment, and then took it in his own, the two shaking kindly. The shake only lasted for a few seconds, but spoke volumes, and the newly named man definitely heard them.

When their hands parted, Lorelai reached back into her medical bag to pull a different object out. But this time instead of breakfast, it was a her newly acquired, battered deck of cards. She held the deck up to James and smirked.

"Now, the real question here is, do you know how to play Rummy?"

* * *

 _I'm not a doctor, please don't use this chapter, or any future chapters, as medical advice. However, please DO let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks everyone!_


	4. Deck

Lorelai wasn't surprised that James was unfamiliar with the card game she selected for them. What she was surprised at was how quickly he had picked it up after giving him a brief tutorial. They only played two rounds before he became a formidable opponent. With each calculated move and flash in his eyes she was learning just how bright he really was, even though the two hardly spoke the entire time. But it was easy to see the intelligence he possessed, showing as he silently strategized, the gears turning in his mind. Dr. Hellman tried to make herself feel better and reason that she kept losing because she was concentrating on him instead of the game, but she knew very well it was because he was beating her fair and square.

The doctor left about an hour after her arrival to James's room, exiting only when the agent standing outside the door walked in to see what had become of her, confused as to what was taking so long. He entered with his gun drawn, seeming to think that the asset had actually lashed out, either injuring or killing the woman. But instead of finding Lorelai in a messy pile on the floor, the agent found the asset killing her in a very different way; it was the fifth time in a row he had bested her, and Hellman, who was extremely competitive, was _not_ pleased. James, usually incredibly trained at hiding his reactions, couldn't contain the amusement he felt at watching her struggle. He could practically see the fumes leaving her head, and his lips struggled to remain tight when she began to grit her teeth or clutch her fists in frustration.

Upon seeing the friendly game taking place between the two, the agent gave Lorelai a bewildered expression, obviously not seeing anything like it before. But when the confusion subsided, the man's face contorted into disapproval, eyeing the woman with a pointed look and a raised brow. Though she didn't feel guilty by any means, the doctor didn't want to cause trouble for either of them, deciding it was probably time to make her exit, and quickly. Turning to collect her cards, she faced James to see his section of the pile already neatly stacked and ready to pack, handing it over to her. Obviously he also knew it was time for her to leave. Giving him a quiet promise of a rematch, the doctor took her deck and her bag, quickly leaving the room without looking the agent in the eye.

After leaving her patient, another day passed her quite mundanely. Sleep, eat, cards, sleep, cards, eat, cards, bathe, sleep. It was becoming a routine she didn't exactly care for, but wasn't hating just yet. But she knew that it would only be a matter of time before being locked away in this building was would drive her mad. In the meantime she tried not to focus on the inevitable restless that was going to overtake her, but on the positives (if that was the right word for it) of her living situation. She wasn't confined to her room (as long as she behaved), she was able to interact with other people (Hydra agents who didn't give a damn about her well being), and she was being fed (that she couldn't complain about, the food was actually pretty decent).

It was almost a relief when there was a sudden loud knocking on her door that roused her from what she could imagine was well over her tenth game of solitaire that day. She had no idea what time it was, but she had a sense it had to be at least the late afternoon. Lorelai called for whoever was at the door to enter, and in barreled an agent she had yet to see before (she was getting used to these sudden interactions with strangers), his face pale as a ghost, sweat lining his entire forehead. The young man seemed quite affected by whatever had happened to him, and his eyes were darting around the room despite Dr. Hellman sitting right in front of him.

"Who are you?" Lorelai questioned the man now in her room, surprising herself a little at her outright inquiry and strong tone. She had wanted to get to know some names on base, but she had a feeling she was able to muster this up because quite honestly, the agent before her wasn't very intimidating with his boyish features and lanky build. Also, at the moment he seemed distressed and sickly, and not incredibly menacing.

"Agent Kowalski," the man answered strenuously, addressing the woman but not looking at her directly. "You're the doctor, yeah?" Puzzled at the man's appearance and question, her eyes began to survey the agent for any signs of injury on him, but despite his sickly appearance, he didn't seem to be physically hurt. However, as Lorelai's eyes continued to examine him, they happened to twitch to the man's hand on the doorknob for a mere second, and then widened when she realized it seemed to be stained red. Gazing at his other hand, she saw it to be the same shade. Someone was harmed, even if it wasn't him.

Jumping from her bed, her playing cards scattering everywhere, the doctor quickly slipped on her shoes and grabbed for her medical bag, then standing to follow the agent.

"Who's hurt?" she replied as an answer, marching to the door to be led out. "Bring me to them, what happened?"

Walking backwards out the door as Lorelai came towards him, the young man stumbled on his own footing, seeming unable to answer her questions while simultaneously showing her the way. He was quite flustered. When he somewhat regained his composure, he stepped out into the hallway on both feet and began to take her down the hallway.

"Mary-" the boy stopped himself, apparently realizing that a first name basis about whoever he was speaking of seemed inappropriate or too humanizing in front of a captive. "Agent Novak was training with handheld weapons and injured herself. She's in the infirmary now, John- Agent Moore is keeping pressure on the wound."

"Where is the wound and what was the weapon?"

"On her lower arm, and it was a knife. We were sparring and she got cut."

At their hurried pace, the two reached the infirmary in just a few short minutes, the young agent opening the door for the doctor who was steeling herself as she zipped inside the threshold. Lorelai was ready for a bloodbath; being that the boy was so unnerved by what he seen, she had assumed that the agent she was about to treat had suffered a grievous injury that would require serious medical attention. She has anticipated blood, gore, horror, dramatic distress... However, the scene she came upon was quite the opposite.

Before her was a young woman (why were these agents so young? They had to be in their mid to late 20s at the most) sitting upon the metal table in the middle of the room, silently and patiently waiting her arrival. There was another, older agent, presumably the Agent Moore mentioned earlier, standing next to her holding a white cloth the back of her right arm. The girl, Agent Novak, didn't seem to be in such bad shape as she was made to believe. Despite the obvious injury, she didn't appear to have any other signs of affliction; her face was composed and seemed to be of normal tone, not pale or lacking significant color. She was also sitting upward, not slouched over or tired looking or sickly. Honestly, the agent who brought her there seemed to be in worse shape than the woman in front of her.

The two agents previously in the room turned their attention towards the two new additions to the room when they entered. Lorelai closed the space between her and Agent Novak, Kowalski tailing behind her.

"You the new doc?" the woman asked her as she approached. Her tone wasn't hostile or condescending, unlike most of the people Hellman had encountered so far. She actually sounded a little bored, and while that was unsettling, Lorelai would take that over the menacing figures she met any day. The doc nodded.

"That would be me," she responded evenly, not wanting to go into specifics or oppositions at the moment. As of right now she was the base's doctor, this woman's doctor, despite the way she got there. Whether her life was threatened or not, she would never have it in her to deny a person the help they needed, no matter who they were. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

Agent Novak nodded, and Agent Moore stepped aside to allow the woman the room she needed, still holding the cloth tightly to his coworker's arm. When Lorelai placed her hand over the cloth to take over, he withdrew his hand and walked to stand near Agent Kowalski. Slowly removing a section of the cloth, she took in the injury, seeing it was a smooth laceration about four inches in size. Some parts of the wound were already starting to coagulate, which was a good sign, and she was glad they had the sense to keep pressure on it.

"It's long, but I don't believe you'll need stitches," she explained to the woman sitting below her. "Applying pressure was a good move, slowing the bleeding saved some time. It doesn't appear to be that deep, so you should be fine after I wash it and patch you up. I'll see if there's a tetanus shot around here somewhere, but do you think you can go without painkillers?"

The agent nodded. "It's not the worse I've ever gotten; I think I'll be fine."

"Good." Lorelai turned around to face the other two agents in the room. "Can the two of you find me some antibiotic ointment and fresh gauze?" She needed to keep pressure on the wound, but she also wasn't familiar enough with the room yet to know where all the supplies were. She didn't want to waste time or energy searching aimlessly.

Agent Moore obediently went towards the room's many cabinets to retrieve what the woman asked for. He rifled through the drawers with ease, apparently knowing where everything was he was looking was located. However, his younger counterpart stayed glued to the floor, his body facing away from the doctor and her patient. Even from his perpendicular angle she could tell his eyes were closed, and the beads of sweat just continued to line this forehead.

"Agent Kowalski, are you having a problem?" Lorelai questioned the man, genuinely a little concerned for his state at the moment. He looked as if was he was about to pass out. Her words drew the attention of the other Hydra agents, making them regard the man with interest as well. It took a few moments, but the boy finally answered.

"I don't like blood," he responded strenuously, his eyes remaining unopened.

There was silence in the room that followed his words, but not out of sympathy. The others in the room all turned to one another and shared an exasperated look, each of them seeing the irony in an agent trained to kill that gets queasy at the sight of blood. Lorelai's suspicions of him being a young and new member only seemed to be confirmed at every turn. Holding back a sigh she felt building inside her, Lorelai turned back towards the shaky agent.

"Then if you would please step outside, I would greatly appreciate it," the doctor told him firmly. "I will not be cleaning vomit off this floor today."

The agent nodded and was very quick to comply with her orders.

* * *

The next morning came as quickly as the ones before it, leaving Dr. Hellman to another unpredictable day ahead of her. She woke up stiff and unsettled, and almost decided to go back to sleep to avoid even just a few of the next hours ahead of her. But as always, once her mind was awaken it was incredibly easy for her thoughts to get ahold of herself, therefore she found it difficult to find rest once more. Reluctantly, it challenged her to start her day and face either another mundane stretch of playing cards and staring at her wall, or patching up a Hydra agent that probably deserved their injury in the first place.

To help cope with the nerves radiating throughout her body for what seemed like all the time, Lorelai had begun to spend a few of her hours doing some mild exercising in her tight living space. It was nothing too exciting, just simple moves like jumping jacks, crunches, sit ups, and even push ups, something she was never very good at. But even in their simplicity it felt good having her heart pumping for reasons that weren't her mental unrest. It was very true that exercise was a great stress reliever, even in small doses. Before her abduction, she used to take walks a lot outside when she was home or around the hospital when she had a few moments to herself; the idea of taking one now sounded heavenly. However, while her room didn't exactly feel like a haven of any kind, it felt much safer than walking around the base by herself.

Lorelai would never wish pain on anyone (well mostly anyone she was beginning to realize), but being able to treat the young agent yesterday was almost like a godsend, a deviation from her new norm. When she was able to do something and interact with people, even Hydra agents who weren't Rumlow, she wasn't so restless. While only a few days into her routine, she was getting jittery. This woman was never one to just sit around and wait, she needed action; it was one of the many reasons she was drawn to emergency medicine. She left her shift at the end of each night utterly exhausted, but it was because she spend her day in a state of constant motion. Along with her agitated state, she also had an underlying feeling of anxiety that she felt settling into her bones. Her turmoil wasn't because she felt as though she was in danger at every moment, but because she feared the moments she was almost certain were destined to come, particularly those of Pierce or Rumlow deciding she was no longer necessary and making her disappear for good.

Sitting up in her bed, she wasn't quite sure which of her _many_ options to go about first, or if she even wanted to. Lorelai couldn't stop thinking that truly, she felt lonely for contact with a person who didn't make her hair stand on edge. She missed Greta so much. She knew her absence had to have been noticed by now, if not by her best friend than by the hospital. She hoped that her reputation of never missing work without a notification would set off some alarms with her coworkers. She felt sad knowing that Greta was probably worried about her; the two talked almost everyday via text at least, and her friend was smart enough to put together that something was wrong.

As the doctor sat there silently, a thought unexpectedly bloomed in her mind, one making her sit up just a little straighter; James. There was only one person she had encountered on this base who didn't make her feel uncomfortable, belittled, or unnerved, and that was her newest and most worn patient, the man with the metal arm, the missing memory, and a knack for cards. Though the situation was hardly ideal, she could say with all honesty that the short hour she spent with the man playing cards those few days ago had been the highlight of the time she's been at the base. Even just remembering the encounter allowed her to feel some kind of emotion other than the wariness she was trapped in a few moments ago.

So could she… _should she_ … go visit him?

Her scheduled appointment with him wasn't until tomorrow, but she was desperate to be around someone who didn't get on every last nerve in her body, even if only for a few minutes. If she was being honest with herself, she would admit she felt like she could relate to James; it was plain to see that neither of them wanted to be where they were. She bit her lip in contemplation, and after a few moments of trying to talk herself out of it, the physician began to put on her shoes.

Still unclear as to what time it really was, Lorelai finished tying her laces and made sure to slip her deck of cards into the front pocket of her sweatpants before making her way outside of her room. Out of habit, the woman remained at the threshold for a moment and scanned the hallway for any sign of life, only venturing out when she found it was empty. Still trying to decide if this was a smart idea or not (and whether or not it was smart to still continue), she navigated her way through the base with uncertain footing towards James's room. However, she couldn't lie to herself that while one part of her chest was fluttering with nerves at being reprimanded, another part of her was actually a little excited.

Upon arriving at her destination, the doctor paused in confusion when she first realized there was no guard stationed outside his door, odd considering there always seemed to be one there before. For a moment she considered turning around, the deviation from the norm making her rethink her actions. It was also a sign that maybe he wasn't in the room for whatever reason and therefore a guard wasn't needed. But she then remembered that one of her roles was to clear the man before and after he went out on missions. Surely she would have been informed if he was sent off base. Maybe the guard were only needed sometimes? With hesitation, she slowly made herself go to the door anyway, giving the entrance a light rap before taking a step back and waiting.

To her surprise, Lorelai heard some kind of rustling from the other side of the door, indicating someone was indeed inside. She would never walk in on her own without some kind of permission first, so she when she didn't hear any kind of call, she assumed he, James, was coming to the door. She could actually feel a faint wave of excitement settle in her stomach. She never knew that the prospect of a simple card game could make her so happy.

The doorknob began to turn and Lorelai smiled, looking upward at the door; she hoped this would be a pleasant surprise for James as well, at the very least being that this would be a change of pace from his day to day seclusion.

However, when the door opened and the occupant of the room was revealed, the woman's smile fell like a lead weight to the floor. She took an involuntary step backwards.

Instead of her patient, the doctor was unpleasantly startled to come face to face with the unnerving form of Rumlow standing over her.

Meeting the agent's cold, stern eyes, Lorelai thought she felt her heart stop; she was frozen in place, unable to even breathe from the fear washing over her body. His forehead creased as he started to scrutinize her menacingly, and then slowly, deliberately, he crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles expand and look even more threatening. It seemed as though his body was growing in size right before her eyes, this form able to loom over her at an impressive angle. Either that or she was just feeling smaller in these moments.

As he continued his intense, unyielding glare, she dared to look behind him and peer into the room; from what she could see, no one else was present; James wasn't there. Meeting his eyes once more, Lorelai quietly hoped that the blood she felt draining from her face wasn't as noticeable as it felt.

"Where is he?" she timidly questioned the agent, her mouth feeling dry, her skin feeling clammy. She knew she didn't need to clarify, and if she had to, she didn't know if she would be able to. This man frightened her.

Rumlow's face didn't yield from its hard set expression, and he took a few moments before he decided to respond, making her feel even more uncomfortable, if that was possible.

"He's on duty at the moment," he countered her, his eyes continuing to give her that hollow examination. His tone dared her to challenge him, a challenge she felt nowhere near ready to take on. However, along with her emotions of fear and unease, she was also confused. One of the many specific tasks Pierce had given her was to greenlight James before he went out on assignment. Had something changed?

Lorelai drew in a small breath before continuing, hoping to coherently piece together a sentence more than three words long.

"Am I not supposed to clear him before he goes on missions?" she inquired of Rumlow, crossing her own arms over her chest, trying to make herself feel some sense of strength. It didn't really help.

"That would be unnecessary for this. He's scouting, not going to battle."

There was a moment of awkward silence before the doctor eloquently responded.

"Oh."

There was silence. The two of them, only a few mere feet apart, stared one another down, the woman's eyes wide and anxious, the man's hard and analyzing. Neither moved an inch, and the few moments that passed seemed like years to the young doctor, though the agent before her seemed unfazed. For a split second she wondered if the man was expecting her to leave. If she wasn't so locked into the ground by his stare she might already have. But then unexpectedly, Rumlow began to move.

The man was nodding, though his movements were not like that of a natural nod. His neck extended outward and his head bobbed high and low abnormally. This wasn't the only oddity, for it was almost like this whole body was changing. His crossed arms dropped, his rigid stance relaxed slightly. Even his hard face contorted into a considering expression as he continued his slow gesture. To the trained eye as Lorelai was becoming, it was easy to tell he was mocking her. The man then began to pace in front of the door. His steps were slow, calculating, and heavy, yet this body was still slackened. That faux appearance of consideration remained on his solid face. She knew before any words left his mouth that he was trying to intimidate her. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't working.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're not scheduled to come here until tomorrow, Dr. Hellman."

Lorelai bit the inside of her cheek slightly, trying to contain the nervous flutter his statement brought to her stomach. _He wasn't wrong._ This was one of the issues she considered when she decided to come over. However, she hadn't really considered how she would defend herself if this came up. Luckily for her, adrenaline kicked in, and so did an idea.

 _Play dumb._

"Well, I thought I was supposed to come over today," she lied quickly, and surprisingly smoothly. "It's hard to keep track of days in my room. I don't exactly have a kitty wall calendar to help me out." While she knew the snark probably could have been done without, the doctor impressed herself with the coolness in her tone, but didn't pat herself on the back just yet. She was bound to screw this up eventually.

While eyeing her slightly for her sass, the man ultimately nodded again at her answer, but spoke no more on his first inquiry. She couldn't tell if he had seen right through her or not, but she decided to err on the side of caution and assume he did.

However, instead of pressing her further, he abruptly moved onto a new topic.

"I heard you had to do some work on Agent Novak yesterday."

Lorelai felt that the change of topic unnerved her more than if he would have grilled further. She eyed the man suspiciously, though his statement didn't seem to hold any ulterior motives. However, she knew better.

"Yes," she answered him simply, cautiously. She had patched the woman up yesterday, and done it well. How could he have a problem with that?

"Good, that's good work," Rumlow replied, his voice sounding almost honest. His cheeky compliment set her skin on edge, and he continued in the same tone. "It's good to see you're aware of the real reason you're on this base."

The doctor paused, confused. "The _real_ reason?"

"I spoke with Agent Walls recently."

"I'm not familiar with who that is."

"He's the agent who was guarding the asset's room two days ago, when you made another _unscheduled_ appearance. He said he walked in on the two of you... playing _cards?"_

 _Dammit._ Just when Lorelai felt she was regaining some of the color in her face, it left her once again, just as quickly as the first time. She didn't have an excuse or a way to talk herself out of this one. Their encounter had been exactly what it looked like with little other interpretation; she and Hydra's very expensive killing machine were palling around playing Rummy. She could have smacked herself; while she still didn't regret her actions, she severely underestimated the guard's ability to snitch on her.

"I went to check on his arm," the doctor meekly tried to explain. "I didn't just come over to mess-"

"So you thought staying for a round of Go Fish was appropriate?"

The woman stayed silent, unable to defend herself or dispute his words. She could feel her legs begin to shake slightly under this scrutiny, but she knew she couldn't look away from the agent. She had to be brave here.

When he received no further response, Rumlow's entire appearance shifted; his face contorted from consideration into malignity, his head no longer nodded but instead he became stiff at the neck, and his eyes began to bore into her like a predator. His tone also completely changed, reverting back its original, hateful sound. He was no longer mocking; he was threatening.

"Let me remind you, Dr. Hellman," the man spoke to her, his face leaning closer and closer towards her own. "The only thing you're supposed to do with him is treat his injuries. Not _entertain_ him." At this point he was almost nose to nose with the woman, his eyes searing into her own. She was almost certain her heartbeat was audible throughout the room.

"If I hear of you making any more unscheduled, unwarranted visits to the asset, I'll have no problem ensuring you leave here swiftly. In a casket. Do I make myself clear?"

The blood rushing to her ears almost drowned out the words the man was using to terrorize her with. But while she did hear him, his close proximity dried her throat and paralyzed her tongue. She nodded quickly instead, but that didn't seem to be good enough. The agent's voice rose another few levels in volume.

"I want to hear your say it. _Do I make myself clear, Hellman?"_

"Yes," the woman breathed, unable to raise her voice any higher. He was too close, and she was feeling too warm. The room was spinning.

Satisfied with the verbal response, Rumlow abruptly drew himself away from the woman and swiftly began to march away from her, heading down the hallway where she had just come from. Lorelai immediately felt the relief of cool air once he vacated her personal space.

"You've barely been here a week, Hellman. I would hate to have to shoot you so early," he called loudly as he departed, leaving the doctor standing in front of James's empty room, sweating and shaking.

Lorelai was was fused to the floor for a long time after Rumlow departed, pure fear keeping her legs locked together. Rumlow's presence was like a thick odor, one that didn't leave the room long after its source has passed. Because of this she found it challenging to allow herself to calm down, and it took her about ten minutes before she felt her heart return to a semi-normal rhythm. When the sweating finally stopped, the doctor began to pick up her feet and slowly wander in the direction of her room, not sure if she was really going there.

The woman was at a loss of what to do. To say she was disappointed was an understatement, but now she was also paranoid being on Rumlow's radar like this. There was no way she could come back without a reason now. Not a cell in her body doubted Rumlow's sincerity when he said he would shoot her. She was also under the impression he would get a lot of satisfaction from doing that, and she refused to do anything that would give him pleasure.

She continued to wander back the way she came from, figuring she would just go back to her room and stare at the wall for an unknown amount of time. Or at least until tomorrow when she had the green light to come and examine James without fear of Rumlow's wrath. But as she neared the final hallway leading to her room, she happened to look up and realize just where on base she was. Standing outside the door to her new destination, she entered immediately, knowing there was nothing in this case stopping her from having free range of this area. No one should have a problem with her being there.

The infirmary was empty when she opened the door, to her great relief. Lorelai was far from ready to deal with anyone at the moment, and while the infirmary certainly got more traffic than her room, she needed to move around and have a change of scenery. At least if she was needed she'd be easy to locate and wouldn't have to make the trek to from her room. Staring at her open space, the doctor mused for a moment why she had decided to come in there, and what she was planning on doing. She really didn't have a clue. Mostly she just wanted some 'fresh' air and time away from her shoebox of a room. But as she paced around the medical room, regarding the many cabinets and equipment, she noticed just how dingy and unkempt the space was. Not exactly ideal for a medical area. An idea then snapped into her mind, reminding her of one of her common home practices she performed when she had an anxious mindset and nothing better to do; stress clean.

The physician hated cleaning. She hated dusting, she hated vacuuming, she hated washing dishes and folding laundry, or anything else that involved her scrubbing, rinsing, or mopping something that would only be dirty again in a matter of days. She refused to make her bed in the morning because she saw no point in it. Of course she did these chores when necessary, but she normally only did small amounts at one time. However, when she was troubled or anxious from something at work or life, she felt the overwhelming need to make her house immaculate. Many times she would do an entire month's cleaning in only a few hours, though due to her work schedule, she was never home enough to make that much of a mess anyway. Either way it was a type of therapy for her.

She never did find out where everything was in the room, she realized. Maybe this was a good time to familiarize herself with the area, as well as tidy it up a bit. With this in mind, Lorelai set out for the cabinets.

Opening the first lower level drawer, she was met with a sea of packaged bandages unsorted and cluttered everywhere, the bottom of the drawer unable to be seen. Everything appeared to be useable, just very unorganized, something that would be inexcusable in any real hospital. She knew the stereotype that doctors had bad handwriting had a lot of merit behind it, but any doctor who was sloppy with their supplies was potentially putting people at risk. So Dr. Hellman took a seat on the floor below her and started to go through the drawer, sorting through its contents and trying to give the space some order. That said, she figured she shouldn't change the location of any of the items in case someone familiar with the area needed something. When she finished with the first drawer, she continued this process onto the next drawer, and then the next, and then the next, until she was six drawers in and still had another few to go until the entire level was sorted through. She was on a roll, and as at her house, she was beginning to feel better working with her hands.

Time had passed, more than the doctor had realized. Because she hadn't intended to be there in the first place, she didn't plan on a length of time she was going to stay. The woman was actually enjoying herself a bit, if that was the correct way of putting it. To put it more accurately, she was grateful to have something to do and preoccupy her time.

Lorelai was still on the lower level when someone opened the door to the infirmary and entered. The person came into the room so silently that their presence was only known to the doctor when the door slammed shut, making her jump out her skin from her spot on the floor. She banged her knee painfully on the edge of the opened drawer in the process, and cursing under her breath, she felt her heart began to speed up again like before, having no idea who the silence occupant of the room was. Now worried she was about to have another unpleasant encounter with Rumlow that day, the doctor hesitantly turned her body towards the entrance of the room, keeping her form low to the ground and tight in a defensive manner. But when she realized who was actually there with her, the woman's expression and body language changed entirely.

James was standing a little ways out of the entryway, eyeing her curiously at her position on the floor. He was obviously confused at what the woman was doing, and she was an odd sight to see at the moment, surrounded by medical supplies in heaps on the floor with a wooden drawer pulled between her legs. After a moment or two of taking her in, the man met her eyes.

Lorelai felt an incredible amount of weight lifted from her shoulders when she found James at the doorway instead of the agent, or anyone else for that matter. She smiled brightly at the man as he took a few timid more steps into the room, her expression fueled partly because of her relief and partly because she was genuinely happy to see him. Upon seeing her reaction and pleasure in his presence, she could have sworn she saw the corners of his mouth rise slightly as well.

"Hey," the woman greeted the puzzled man from the floor, her tone a little awkward from her position but happy nonetheless. Taking in his confusion, she addressed the scene before him, trying to explain herself. "I didn't have anything to do so I decided to do a little... cleaning. Turned out to be a bigger task than I anticipated."

It was now her turn to be confused when she actually took James in and realized what he was wearing. It was nothing like the plain t-shirts and sweatpants she had seen the man in before; his current garb seemed to be composed of a lot of leather in different dark hues that covered most of his upper body, though this metal arm was exposed completely, presumably for easy motion. His wear was also very padded, and he wore what looked like a utility belt around his waist and above a pair of black tactical pants. Upon further observation she noted this belt carried multiple weapons, both guns and knives, and other items should would never want to be in charge of. She couldn't be sure, but she could have sworn she saw a grenade tucked in there. In his hand she noticed he seemed to be carrying what kind of looked like a pair of dark skiing glasses, however she was very certain skiing was _not_ one of the reasons he needed them.

Lorelai was baffled by the suit for a moment until she remembered the whole reason her plan went to hell today was because he was scouting. This coming to mind, the woman barely finished her thought before she put herself on alert; it snapped into her mind that he had just walked into the infirmary after an outside mission, signaling there may be a problem.

"Wait, are you alright, is there a problem?" clinical Lorelai questioned him, ready to spring from her spot on the ground. A quick look over didn't show her any immediate signs of injury, but she knew with this particular patient that didn't mean much.

James looked surprised by her abrupt concern, but shook his head.

"No," he responded quietly, seeming unclear of how to proceed with the conversation. "My debriefings take place here."

"Oh." Lorelai was relieved for his sake there wasn't a situation, but also felt a small warning light go off in her head; she did _not_ want to be around for that, and she was pretty positive she wouldn't be welcomed anyway. She also didn't want to be in the presence of whoever was going to be there, most likely Rumlow, and maybe even Pierce. "I should probably get out of here then."

As quickly as possible she began taking the small piles she made around her and placing them back in the drawer on the ground. Now aware of the large mess she had created and what little time she had to clean it, she had a sudden urgency in her movements, making her drop a few things, much to her annoyance.

In her newest worried state, the woman on the floor failed to notice that the room's newer occupant moved from his original spot. Having seen her nervous tells at the thought of being there when the others arrived, James, after a few moments of consideration, silently crossed the room and kneeled down next to her, hesitantly, but he did. Something inside him told him to aid this woman, and though it went against many of the instincts he felt initially, there he was on his knees anyway, something deeper than his instincts over powering him. Or perhaps, maybe this was an instinct? One he had hidden away long ago? He wasn't quite sure, but that was what it felt like in a way.

It startled Lorelai slightly when a second pair of hands joined her, but the help was greatly appreciated and the work went much faster. The irony wasn't lost on her that the man she felt the most comfortable around on this base was the one with the most ability to do her damage. She read this file, the man was a machine (almost literally, he has a metal arm for god's sake). He could lift incredible weights, run astounding speeds, was trained to be a warrior; saying he was gifted seemed like an understatement. He was a superhuman. Even if she hadn't read up on him herself, it wouldn't have been that hard to put together how dangerous he was; an army of armed guards ran towards him every time he sneezed. But none of that really seemed to matter. In the short time she had been there, encounters with him were the only ones where she felt like she could breathe. And she appreciated that while she didn't feel confident standing up for herself to the guards, standing up for him empowered her, allowed her to take control of the situation. She felt a need to watch over him, one that even a gun couldn't stifle.

He was quiet, dark, haunted, hurting... and yet here he was, knelt on the ground next to her helping her put her things away. There was a good inside of him, inside that cracked shell he walked around in.

The doctor looked over to him, smiling gently.

"I was looking for you earlier," Lorelai told James causally as they continued, almost done with the job. "I ran into Rumlow instead and he told me you were… out. Not a very enjoyable talk."

The man's head snapped up to meet hers, and his hands paused in their work as Hellman finished up the job, slipping the drawer back into its hole on the shelf. James looked surprised.

"Why?" he asked her hesitantly, not knowing what kind of answer to expect.

The woman chuckled, and as she did she reached into her pocket and pulled out the deck of cards she was intending to use earlier.

"For a rematch."

The man's shoulders visibly relaxed, her words releasing the tension he held. The corners of his mouth even twitched into a grin, one that stuck around for a few seconds longer than the previous ones. Progress.

Then he did something that really surprised her.

"Do you enjoy losing that much?"

Lorelai's mouth practically hit the floor, especially when the grin on his lips twitched just slightly higher at her reaction. He was _teasing her._ The woman bit her cheek trying unsuccessfully to contain the amused smile forming on her own mouth.

"Who says I didn't let you win?" she retorted, concealing her entertainment under faux annoyance.

"You didn't."

She couldn't contain the laugh that left her from his jest, shaking her head at the man before her. She knew there was life in him. It just took awhile for it to shine through and she was excited to be seeing this side of him. Just the fact that he was speaking to her was incredible. But teasing her? She almost couldn't believe it.

Brushing off her hands, Lorelai was the first to stand, gripping onto the wall for support after being on the ground for so long. When she righted herself, she offered a hand to the man still on the ground, and just after a moment of delay he took it, allowing her to help him to his feet as well.

"Unfortunately I think we'll have to schedule our game for somewhere far in the future. I've been barred from fun, evidently."

Puzzled, James raised his brow in query at her statement, and Lorelai caught on.

"I guess the agent outside your door the other day told Rumlow about our game he walked in on. Rumlow said if I make anymore trips to you without a reason I'll be in… trouble." _Dead is a more accurate term, but let's not get into that at the moment._

The perplexed look dissipated from James face at her explanation, but… _disappointment_ took it instead? Lorelai was unsure, to be honest. Even though she was getting more out of him than before, he was still rather serious faced. Many of his facial expressions looked alike and she was only just beginning to catch onto the subtle differences between them. And this moment wasn't the time to stick around and try to decipher it. She did have to go.

"Well, thanks for helping me, but I better jet. I've had enough of Rumlow chewing me out today," she joked (but also meant seriously) as she began to walk towards the door. Before she exited completely, she turned around, giving the man a mischievous grin. "Don't get lazy though. When the moment is right, I'll take you down in… something. It might not be rummy, but it'll be something. I'm great in poker, blackjack, and Go Fish. Just you wait."

James shook his head in was she assumed was amusement at her words. Giving him one last smile, the woman scurried out of the infirmary, gently closing the door behind her as the asset watched her go.

* * *

A few hours later, Lorelai was just settling in her room for the evening, preparing to go to sleep. Her hair was still damp from her usual quick cold shower and she was dressed in a fresh pair of gray sweatpants in what was becoming her normal outfit. Her stomach was still full from the meal she grabbed from the cafeteria and brought to her room, and she was feeling rather lethargic. This day had been a whirlwind of emotions and rather busy, and she was starting to get used to taking naps during the day, which she didn't get to have today. Ultimately she was beat, and she was very ready to crawl into her cot and rest for awhile.

At this current moment that night, the physician was still trying to towel dry her thick hair when there was a knock at her door, so gentle she almost didn't hear it at first.

"Come in?" she called to the person on the other side, still not completely certain there was actually someone there. She quickly gave herself a look over, something she realized she probably should have done before she called them in, but she was relieved to see she was fully dressed, though a little disheveled. She put down her towel and began to reach for her shoes, expecting to be be whisked away to another emergency, as what typically happened.

The door open very slowly as she sat on her bed and began to tie her laces, glancing up only when the door was wide enough to reveal her caller. Who she saw made her freeze entirely.

James was in her doorway.

Changed back into his usual plain attire, the man looked out of place standing in the doorway of her room. Though his face was still rather serious and rigid as usual, Lorelai could see the slight tells of uncertainty betraying what he seemed to feel at the moment. His frown line was deeper than usual, and his eyes darted back and forth quickly around the room, seeming to analyze every corner.

"James, hey," Lorelai greeted him, a little shocked that he was standing in the threshold of her room. She stood up from her bed, realizing comically that she now had one shoe on to couple her sloppy garb. But she didn't put much thought into her appearance, and neither did James seem to. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded quietly, seeming uncertain how to continue or explain himself. He closed the door behind him when he finally walked into the room, but still stayed close to the entryway, a few feet away from the woman. However, standing there he still didn't explain himself. It didn't seem he knew how.

"Are you sure?" she probed him upon this observation. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, it's just I'm not used to visitors who don't have injuries anymore."

He nodded more, confirming he was well. Then, after a few moments he seemed to find his voice, answering quietly.

"Scouting went well this afternoon. I was granted an hour of leniency for dinner."

"So you came here?"

James's phantom grin emerged, ever so slightly as usual.

"Rematch."

Upon hearing his response, Lorelai smiled then, but the laugh that came out of her was a mix of amusement and uncertainty.

"Oh…" Lorelai considered this for a moment. Just hours earlier she was literally threatened with death for playing cards with this man. Was she actually going to do this again, at least so soon after? The doctor bit her lip. "Are you sure? Does anyone know you're here?"

James shook his head in the negative.

"No one is for watching me or saw me come here. I believe we are clear."

Lorelai watched James for any amount of uncertainty, and she was relieved to see there was none. That made her very sure in what she was about to decide. Because he put the effort into coming here she knew he must have really wanted this as well, maybe even needed it. She would be the first to admit she was in that same boat. If she ever did leave this place, she would never look at the power of simple gestures the same way ever again. Even a card game had impact in a place like this.

Defiantly, she decided that Rumlow could screw himself. She reached into the drawer that now held the cards and pulled the deck out.

"Then I hope you brought your A-game. 'Cause I've been practicing."

* * *

 _Happy spring break to me. Sorry for the wait, but college occupies my time these days. But don't worry, I'm still writing when I can. Please review and tell me what you think! Enjoy!_


	5. Bright

Lorelai had awaken that day rather differently than she had the previous morning. As she opened her eyes to face the many hours ahead of her, she noticed something was there that she couldn't find yesterday when she first arose; a smile was on her face. She felt well rested, relaxed; her body wasn't holding any of the tension or stress it had the last time she awoke, and she ultimately felt settled, something she hadn't been in the preceding days. Her smile lingering, the woman began to rise from her bed with ease, sitting up and beginning to stretch. It didn't take a genius to know where her good mood was coming from.

James had stayed for about half an hour the night before, wanting to return to his own room before anyone noticed his absence. The two had played three or four games of rummy (one of which the doctor actually won fair and square) before switching to a few quick rounds of blackjack, which James also caught onto rather swiftly. Similar to the last time, the two didn't talk much; the only sounds that were exchanged between them were Lorelai's grunts of frustration and one failed attempt from the soldier to hide a chuckle. When they finished, James quickly and silently retreated back to his own room without so much as a farewell to his new companion. Lorelai didn't mind though; she wasn't quite surprised that he missed the faux pas.

It amazed Lorelai just how 30 minutes of spending time with the man was able to calm her down, especially before she went to sleep. His presence was incredibly soothing to her nerves, astounding considering his current occupation. Though it also wasn't so far fetched when she thought about it; he didn't leer at her, raise his voice, or carry himself in an arrogant manner like many of the agents did on this base. Instead he was quiet, reserved, and teased her about her inability to beat him at a card game. He even smiled. Well, it wasn't _exactly_ a smile, but she was determined to get him there.

The doctor prepared herself for the day rather quickly so she could get to James as soon as possible. It was his examination day, and she was thankful for the official excuse to go and visit him. After finishing all her grooming and organizing, she grabbed her medical bag and waltzed out the door of her room, steadfast as she marched towards her destination. Her only deviation from the route was a short pit stop to the cafeteria, where she picked up two bagels, wrapped them in napkins, and placed them in her them in her bag, her new go-to breakfast for herself and her patient.

Arriving at the infirmary, Dr. Hellman was pleased to find there was a different guard who manned the door today, not the one who caught them playing cards just two days prior. On the contrary, this was an agent she had yet to have an encounter with, making her catalog of those on base she was forced with deal with continue to grow. The woman had started to compile a mental list of the agents she'd met so far and divide them into categories, trying to get straight in her head who to ignore, who to go to, and who to avoid at all costs.

The tattletale agent from the other day, whose name she still didn't know, was gifted the label of _snitch_ , which she did feel might have been a little unfair on her part. She had no doubt every and any of the agents on base would rat on her as well if they caught her doing anything prohibited. But being that he was to first to do it, he was the standout in her mind. She would avoid him to be sure, especially since she now harbored a feeling he would be watching her more closely when he was on duty.

The two bro agents she met during James's first appointment, the one who's name she never heard and the other named something with an H, were _douchebags_ for reasons that didn't need explaining and were definitely ones to avoid. Kowalski was labeled _inexperienced_ because of his youth and seemingly crippling fear of blood. Moore and Novak she couldn't form negative opinions about yet, outside of them being Hydra agents; Moore had been helpful when Novak was injured, and Novak didn't react in an outlandish way when Hellman was treating her.

Rumlow was hard to label because she couldn't place him into one category. He would be at the top of her list of those to avoid if he were not the man she had to report to. For these same reasons she couldn't place him as one to ignore either, not that he would ever let her do that anyway. What Lorelai could say without hesitation was that he frightened her, truly. She feared his loyalty to Pierce and the cause that Hydra was trying to sell. She also wasn't a fan of the fact that he seemed to have no issues pointing a weapon at her, regardless of whether he intended to use it or not. Mostly she feared his temper, and she was worried that one day her own short fuse would make her big mouth say something that she couldn't take back.

Rumlow got his own classification: _proceed with caution. Atomic bomb._

Lorelai approached the new, rather disinterested face. She kept her stance tall and professional, trying to appear as though she didn't get caught red handed the last time she was there. She had a feeling that all of the agents knew of her fraternizing, but she wasn't in the mood for stink eye from some punk Hydra agent. However, upon her arrival, he didn't even acknowledge the clinician's presence.

When the man continued to plainly ignore the woman standing to the side of him, the seconds slowly becoming close to a minute, she coughed awkwardly and pursed her lips, feeling as though she had suddenly landed in a twisted, dark sitcom. It wasn't that she wanted the Hydra red carpet rolled out for her arrival or anything, but at least a side glance would have been appreciated.

"Umm," she finally sounded, containing the urge to wave her arms. "I'm here for his appointment-"

"Yeah, whatever, go in."

Lorelai paused mid sentence, her mouth slightly gaped from the curt manner of the man, but she couldn't say she was particularly insulted. On the contrary, she simply accepted the acknowledgement and moved on. She would take this agent's indifference over his over attentiveness any day, and it ultimately made her job easier.

 _Works for me._

So without another glimpse at the man or any more fuss, Lorelai opened the door to the infirmary and stepped inside. Upon arrival she was greeted by the thin, closed-lipped smile of her patient inside, and she found herself smiling in return.

* * *

"Well sir, you seem to be in excellent physical health," the physician reported cheerfully, placing her otoscope on the workbench next to the metal bed her patient was sitting on. Reaching into her bag of tricks on that same bench, she revealed the two bagels she stowed away earlier, handing one to the man before her and keeping the other for herself. "Your reward is carbs, the best reward of them all."

With a short exhale of air through his nose, what Lorelai believed to be a muffled chuckle, James took the dense bread from his doctor gratefully and began to eat. He would never mention it, but unknown to Hellman was that he had purposefully not been fed that morning, or given the opportunity to get food himself. It was a constant exercise he was put through to train him to never expect anything from his superiors, not even food or water. She wouldn't have known unless explicitly told, but the man had a feeling that even if she was informed she wouldn't be abiding by such a practice. Rumlow and Pierce would have been furious to know she was giving him food. But he would never be the one to give her away. Not the woman kind enough to bring him any food in the first place. He finished it rather quickly.

"I do have a question for you, however," the doc began, interrupting his private musing. "Where did _this_ come from?" She traced a representative line down her right arm, giving him a pointed look. He didn't need to confirm the location. He knew what she was speaking of.

On the outer side of his flesh arm, there was a thin, discolored scar that ran down a good portion of his forearm. It looked to be the remains of an attack from a fine, straight instrument, something like a knife or a scalpel, and texture of the scar tissue indicated it hadn't merely nicked the top layer of his skin. It was new. Lorelai, whose career requires keen observation of all those under her care, knew it wasn't there last night, but she was confused about its timeline. The injury was already in advanced stages of healing, but wasn't exactly a papercut. The whole accelerated healing thing was still hard to get used to for the doctor, having no gauge to go by.

"When did it happen?" she asked him softly.

"This morning. Early."

"Why? What happened?"

James remained silent, but didn't break their eye contact. He analyzed her for what seemed like the thousandth time since they met and as much as he tried to find some kind of ulterior motive in her actions, he never could, to his immense relief. The concern he viewed in her features was unmistakable. He wanted to hold to his new belief that someone like her was just truly good at her core. He had no spaces to share what he experienced, but she was becoming one.

"Sometimes, when I wake up I don't know where I am," he offered after a few moments. There was another pause. "They'll come in, and I'll start to…" He allowed his sentence to drift, not continuing verbally.

"You'll start to fight back?" Lorelai probed. He nodded. She pursed her lips, perturbed at the explanation he was giving her. The shoulder dislocation incident made a little more sense at the moment, as to why the agents had attacked him in the middle of the night. If he had awaken and had an episode, they would have descended on him. And the men here would use any reason to use extreme force on James. "Do you have nightmares? Is that why you're so worked up when you wake?"

Finally the man broke their gaze, looking to the floor. Once more, he nodded.

Lorelai felt her chest tighten rather sharply, the man's hardships speaking the loudest in his silence. James couldn't even get peace when he slept. That alone was enough to drive a person mad.

"Can I take a look at it?" the doctor asked him gently, making James look back up to her. He offered her his flesh arm quite willingly, and instead of standing next to him as she usually did, Lorelai sat next to him on the metal table, putting herself rather close to the man. She took his outstretched arm and began to examine the new scar tissue, tracing the line a few times. James began to feel exceptionally warm, both on his skin and in his chest. The feeling of her fingers tracing the skin of his arm sent a shiver down his spine, the sensations unexpected but pleasant. He found himself not wanting her to stop. She didn't seem to realize the effect she was having on him.

"Did anyone give you anything for it?" she inquired, not looking up from her surveying. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to be absolutely certain. He shook his head in the negative, still watching her inspect the pale skin. Lorelai didn't know what she was expecting to find in the tissue, but she was curious more than anything to examine the unnaturally healing injury.

After a few moments, the doctor stopped looking up and down the arm, finishing her examination. However, instead of just letting go of his arm, the woman reached down and took James's hand in hers. The Asset's eyes looked from their joined hands to the woman's, watching her features soften from the analytical review they had only seconds earlier.

"Next time something like this happens, please come and get me," Lorelai implored him. "I'd rather I check out something that's not so serious than risk it and let something get worse."

James couldn't tell if the ball forming in his abdomen was because of her words or the feeling of her hand in his. It was warm and soft, and the way she held his own was so gentle it felt foreign. Aside from her, any skin to skin contact that was made with him typically ended with the man being bruised, sliced, or dismantled. He felt himself tighten his grip on her hand ever so slightly.

"Promise?" she asked of him, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. He vaguely wondered if he would be able to say no to her if he tried.

"Promise."

Lorelai grinned happily and squeezed his hand. "Excellent."

Satisfied with her assurances from the man, she gingerly hopped down from table and released her hand from his. James noted that he felt much colder now that she wasn't by his side.

Lorelai went to retrieve his medications and officially complete his examination, this time fetching a glass of water beforehand so he wouldn't be dry swallowing his pills again. The thought made her gag. When all was said and done, Lorelai took a seat on a stool situated before the table James was on. Retrieving her own bagel, she took a large bite and thought to herself for a short time.

"So," Dr. Hellman began, speaking again a few moments of munching. "What's on your agenda today?"

James gave her a faint crooked smile, finding the smallest bit of humor in her statement.

"I have no assignments today, besides meeting with you."

His physician nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I have nothing today either, save if one of your colleagues gets a boo boo I need to take care of." She stayed silence for next few minutes, taking the time to finish the rest of her bagel. When she was finished, she stood up and brushed her hands together. "I'm going to continue organizing a bit around here. You're welcome to stay and just… hang out."

James didn't respond at first, and Lorelai worried she was pressuring him into staying when he didn't want to. She rewound herself slightly.

"I mean if you want. If you'd like to go back to your room, go right ahead. I just won't send you away. It would be nice to have some company I can actually stand-"

"I'll stay."

She paused her flurry of words mid sentence, seeing that he didn't feel any unease with his decision. On the contrary he actually looked rather content. The doctor gave him another smile, happy to have some enjoyable companionship.

A little over an hour had passed. Lorelai was sitting cross legged on the floor right in front of the shelving, resuming her goal of organizing the room. She had finally made it to the second level after continuing where she left off the last time, but she felt like the task was taking forever with little progress being made. However, she at least took comfort knowing that it meant she'd have something to occupy her time for awhile, being that her time here was indefinite. Additionally she had accomplished her goal of locating the pain medication, both in pill and liquid form, so she was able to administer that if necessary.

James, the other occupant of the room, was sitting in a chair several feet away from her, watching every move she made as she removed items from the drawers and rearranged them to her desired location. He had moved closer upon her suggestion when she relocated to the floor, wishing for him not to be so far away. Conversation was getting easier between the two. While they had never been particularly uncomfortable in each other's presence, in the past getting anything out of James was difficult. Now, he answered whatever questions he could without struggle, though there weren't many he could. Because of this, he preferred to ask Lorelai questions instead of answering them.

James didn't flood her with inquires, but whenever a thought struck him, he voiced it. He asked why she wanted to be a doctor ( _her Grandma Hellman was a nurse and she admired the way she always knew how to take care of someone)_. Did she have family ( _her parents died in an accident, and she had a brother, but he had been killed in action years ago)._ Was anyone looking for her ( _her friend Greta, she would be looking)._

Lorelai asked him simple things one wouldn't need a memory to answer; she didn't want to remind him over and over again of his separation from whatever life he led before. What was his favorite color ( _blue_ ). What was his favorite breakfast food ( _bagels)._ Did he enjoy the outdoors ( _yes, when he was let out)._ Eventually her questions became more like 'would you rather', which she intentionally made a little silly. She could tell she was amusing him, his phantom smirk remaining on his features a little longer with every scenario she presented him.

He asked her where she lived.

"I live in the Southwest Waterfront," she responded, placing the items she had taken out of the drawer she was working on back inside. She answered as if they were still in the D.C. area and he was familiar with it. It was only an assumption, but she was confident they were still in the district; this organization needed to be at the center of it all to be successful, and D.C. was one of the few places that fit that description. "I live in a shoebox a little ways away from Ben Franklin. I'd upgrade to a regular box, but ya know… _coûte les yeux de la tête_."

The phrase she used was favorite of her grandmother. It literally meant something cost the eyes of your head, and Grandma Langley, who had spent a great deal of time in France when she was young, used it all the time around her and her brother Will. Lorelai always found the expression funny and liked the way it rolled off her tongue after years of perfecting the pronunciation. It stuck into her adulthood, but she found that whenever she said it she had to rewind herself. It obviously wasn't a common phase to just spit off to English speakers, and she confused almost everyone she accidentally said it to, save Greta, the linguist.

The doctor was about to turn around and explain herself when she was beaten to the punch.

"C'est dommage."

If Lorelai had been sitting in actual seat, she would have fallen out of it. Hastily and awkwardly doing a 180 spin on the floor, she faced James with her mouth agape, though the corners of her mouth peaked upwards. It was more of a smile than anything else, and that wasn't lost on James. Her beam made his own lips twitch upwards ever so slightly, it was unpreventable. Her joy was infectious.

It was almost inconceivable to the man that this dank, smothering, abysmal room, where he was subjected to horror after horror time and time again, could feel brighter, not so suffocating by the presence of another person. James didn't remember much of his time between the wipes, but the pain of the wipe itself… that transcended memory. He hated being in this room. He hated sitting next to the machines that caused him this pain and he typically stared at the floor just so he didn't have to view them. James knew Lorelai had no idea what the machines were. He could see it in the way she regarded the machines with curiosity, but didn't have enough interest to ask what they were. He was relieved the woman didn't question him about them. She had a good heart, and he knew if she did discover their purpose, she would be… repulsed. But when Lorelai was there, he had something else to claim his attention; she amused him, asked him questions, _smiled_. It made the burden easier. She had no idea she was doing it, helping ease his anxiety, but she did it so effortlessly regardless.

The Asset noted that the base of Lorelai's expression was astonishment. While the thin smile he was showing himself couldn't be put out just yet, his face now held a great deal of perplexity, unsure of why the doctor looked so astounded in the first place. Picking up his small tells, his uncertainty made her chuckle.

"James, you speak French?" she chirped happily, her question explaining her wonderment, her eyes bright with pleasant surprise.

The soldier felt his features soften. When she looked at him like that, like she was staring at a precious stone, he couldn't help but feel lighter. There was something about her energy that he was beginning to appreciate, crave even. James viewed this life, if that's what you would call it, through a haze. He never truly felt like an active participate in his own existence; every move he made was a dictated, he couldn't remember time between one wipe and the next, he was literally frozen for years at a time… He didn't even know his own name. The only glimpses he may possess of a life before this one came in his nightmares, and he felt compelled to reject those images as well. The ones of him falling in a white room, a man reaching out to him, screaming something he couldn't make out. He wasn't certain they were real. But they felt real. The fear he experienced in those nightmares was genuine, and even when he woke up attacking guards it wouldn't leave him. At the very least he was thankful to be out of the freeze because while he was on ice, he couldn't wake up from the nightmares.

James couldn't find the word he was looking for, to describe how he felt about Lorelai. Her spirit pulled him from the fog he lived in, and he found himself looking forward to their next appointment when she had to leave, hoping that there was a reason she'd have to come back sooner. He so desired to feel anything but the numbness and the solitude he was kept in. He even welcomed anger, at least it was a change of pace. But this new feeling he had, this contentment, peace of mind he experienced when she was in the room, smiling at him like she was at the moment…

James nodded at his friend, making her laugh.

"That's so interesting, how did you learn?" the doctor inquired, placing her chin on her fist in a thinker's pose. While James valued her genuine interest, he couldn't give her an answer.

"I… don't really know." Lorelai stopped her questioning at that, knowing not to go any further down that dark path. However, this was another piece of him that was revealed to her, and it was something that wasn't dark or morbid. It was quite exciting.

"Do you speak anything else?" she asked curiously. He nodded, but didn't elaborate. She probed him further. "Like what?"

James's response was a sentence the doctor couldn't even begin to understand, and the sudden change in tone made her eyes slightly bulge from her skull. Not that she would ever be able to tell otherwise, but his gasp of the language sounded almost native. The accent and words he spoke sounded familiar enough for her to guess the language correctly, despite not having a chance of knowing their meaning.

"Russian?" she ventured, and he nodded, his crinkled eyed confirming her answer. When he didn't continue, she narrowed her gaze at him good naturedly. She had a sense he was holding back. "Why am I getting the feeling that's not it?"

James's thin lipped smile grew to a grin for a brief moment, and then disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. He was obviously amused she had saw right through him. Relenting, he spoke another quick sentence, but this time in another language. He then followed it with another, another, and then another, all in different languages, and after a fourth, he stopped, and didn't continue.

Lorelai's mouth went slack from the amazement, trying to find all of the sentences' origins. One of the middle ones sounded German to her, and she was pretty sure she was correct in that assumption. The first sentence she had a hunch was Italian, but she was less confident in her guess this time around. The other middle language she knew was Spanish, knowing a little of it herself. The last language she couldn't even begin to guess.

She quickly counted all the languages: seven, including English. And if the number wasn't impressive enough, the fluency behind them was just as remarkable. And Lorelai had to admit, kinda hot.

"Wow," she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. He raised a brow, silently asking what she meant by that. "It's just really impressive, you're very bright. Most people can't speak more than one language, let alone _seven,_ James."

What a mind he had. It was hurting and dark and had seen entirely too many horrors. But such intelligence shone through, and, from what she was seeing as she spent more time with him, resilience. She was already seeing such changes in him.

Another question was about to leave the doctor's tongue when suddenly, two men burst through the door to the infirmary, carrying a third in their arms. A loud wail exploded throughout the room, and the peaceful tranquility of the space was quickly ruined. Lorelai nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden invasion, and James immediately sat up straighter in his chair, though didn't leave it. The duo, now placing their fallen comrade on the metal table James was just occupying an hour ago, were quickly followed by the indifferent agent posted outside the door, only now he had a lot more concern on his face.

The agent's eyes wildly scanned the room for the two persons he was placed in charge of, seemingly worried he was now going to be reprimanded for not keeping an eye on them. Lorelai was surprised he hadn't come in to check on the pair earlier, but evidently he couldn't be bothered unless there were other people around, people to say he wasn't doing his job. However, upon seeing his charges had a safe distance between them, his tense features loosened slightly.

"What happened?" Clinical Lorelai emerged before the crowd, the woman scrambling to her feet and rushing to the bedside of her newest patient. The man had a substantial wound in his right leg, and she could see a number of large pieces of clear debris embedded in the laceration. She had a suspicion it was glass.

"He entered a window incorrectly," one of the duo answered her. "Smashed in too early, stupid move honestly."

" _Shut up, Bates!"_ The injured man paused in his howling to defend himself, thrashing on the table and unable to stay still. "It was your stupid command that got me into this shit!"

"Entered a window?" Lorelai pressed on, ignoring the spat between the men. She was confused about what the man, Bates, was speaking of, not understanding why one would enter a window and how they couldn't do it correctly.

"Aerial infiltration training," he clarified. Lorelai nodded, now comprehending the situation. She set to work.

"I need gauze and dressings, sterile wipes, towels, a bowl of water, and a vial of the pain medications with a syringe," she instructed, looking directly at the guard to retrieve these items. With a nod and a long stride he walked over to the counters. Her eyes then drifted to the other two, Bates and no name. "Keep him still, I can't have him thrashing around and puncturing something further."

Lorelai left the table area and advanced over to the counters where her bag was located, where James happened to still be sitting. He hadn't moved an inch or made a sound since the merry band entered the room. Meeting his face, she saw that he was watching her intently as she came towards him, though his eyes kept flickering uneasily towards the others in the room.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" Lorelai questioned him as she searched through her bag, grabbing the tools she felt were going to be necessary. "It might get a little... loud. This probably won't be pleasant."

James didn't feel the particular need to leave. The noise wasn't bothering him as he was accustomed to sounds like it on the base, and he could even tune it out eventually if needed. On the contrary, he felt the desire to stick around. The thought of leaving her there with the agents present, even if one of them was injured, didn't sit particularly well with him. He knew how quickly the tides could turn with these men, even if she was helping them. He could also feel a small part of him hoping the men would leave soon and that they could return to what they were doing previously, just the two of them. His more logical side knew he'd probably be sent back to his room after this.

He nodded in affirmative to her, not uttering a word. She nodded herself and then turned to return to the man on the table. The guard had returned with all her supplies and set them on one of the two end tables near her. She quickly sterilized her tools and then filled the syringe with a dose of pain medication.

"Hold him, it'll be no help if I stick him in the wrong place."

The three men present all worked to hold the wormy man down. She understood that he was in pain, but in all honesty he was being quite the drama queen. She quietly wished that Agent Novak was in here, having a feeling she would be taking this much better. The doc administered the meds around the laceration, knowing that her first task to cleaning up this mess would be to get the glass out of his leg.

"Hand me the pliers," she spoke to the agent closest to them, who was no name. The man did as she ordered and grabbed the large tool, swiftly sending it towards her so she could begin. But mid action, he abruptly took an alarmed, jittery step backwards, his eyes wide and body stiff. Concerned by his reaction, Lorelai's eyes narrowed at the man in confusion and her lips pursed inquisitively. Before she could comment she noticed that the guard, who was on his right side, began mimicking no name's movements, his expression suddenly anxious as well. It was the most emotion she had seen come from the man yet, and she was surprised he was capable of showing so much. She even noted that his hand had drifted to rest atop his weapon at his side. Perturbed by the two men's sudden shift in emotion, she looked to the third to see if he was acting the same. However, Bates, who was standing at her side, had no change in demeanor and simply showed unease as he held this friend down to the table. She followed the two men in front of her's troubled eyes to find they weren't fixed on her or the situation before them, but were instead looking behind her.

Lorelai turned her body to face whatever had unnerved the men so much, though her hands never left her patient. But when getting a view, she didn't see any reason for them to be upset; the only person behind them was James, who was still in the same spot he had been previously, only now he was standing from his chair. In the doctor's eyes she saw nothing to immediately place them in danger, so she quickly turned back around and continued to tend to her patient. The agent had yet to hand her the pliers, so instead of waiting for the transfixed man to listen to her, she grabbed them from his hands and set to get the debris out.

What Lorelai was unaware of was that James was indeed the reason for the men's distress. It wasn't just that he was standing, she didn't realize, but why. When the Hydra agent had reached over, grabbed the tool, and started sending it in Lorelai's direction, James was immediately on edge, clearly not having heard the woman's request for it over the whining of the man before them. He almost didn't realize he was doing it, but he had sprung from his seat so abruptly that the agents before the doctor thought he was going to attack. Even when he stayed in place upon rising, his body was leaning towards them, ready to descend upon the group if needed. It wasn't until Lorelai herself turned around, not appearing to feel threatened by the tool and simply confused as to what all the fuss was about, did he relax his stance.

James couldn't explain his reaction at first. It was a so unexpected he didn't know how to interpret it fully, or what it meant to him. What he did know was that when the agent had raised the pliers at her, now actually _to_ her he was beginning to realize, James immediately went into defensive mode, almost instinctively. Though the pliers weren't a daunting weapon exactly, the sight of the surgical tool heading in her direction, the sharper, pointed end towards her body, set off an alarm. He himself had injured others with objects that were much duller and required more imagination to use as a weapon.

James could feel his intended course of action still radiating in his limbs, tingling as if he had be shocked and couldn't get rid of the energy. The agents had a right to be unnerved by his actions. The Asset rarely fought back; he really only did when awaken by a nightmare. It was startling to see emotion in his features and watch his form coil as if about to spring; both of them were very aware of what the man was capable of. To add to their distress, they had no clue as to what caused the Asset to react like he did. They had no way of knowing that it was their actions towards the doctor, harmless as they were, that had fuelled his response. Or that he acted this way because he could feel himself growing some kind of... _attachment._

James took his seat once more, feeling the eyes of the agents continue to watch him carefully. Their analytical stares annoyed him, but he didn't allow it to show. It wasn't until the injured agent made a particularly pitiful groan of pain did the two stop watching him. He himself didn't look up to see what had occurred.

Attachment. That was the word he was looking for earlier. He felt an _attachment_ to Lorelai. The woman had become an extension of himself somehow, only she was a part of him he was willing to defend. It registered with him that his feelings of protection towards her were in a way to protect himself; if he were being completely honest, after experiencing what he had these last couple weeks with Lorelai here, he didn't know how he would go back to a void without her.

Lorelai's work was close to complete, though the job had been no easy task. While she had cleaned the wound well, it required a lot of patience on her part due to the patient. The pain medication had to have worked somehow, being that he wasn't howling loud enough to wake the dead anymore. However, he traded in the pain for irritability, and every time she took the pliers to his skin to retrieve a piece of glass, he would complain that she was hurting him or start bitching about the situation he was in. Truly he wasn't in distress, she could tell. He just didn't know the difference between feeling pressure and actually being in pain. Nevertheless, the job was complete, and the doc was prepared to sew the man up. Upon inspection of the injury now that it was clean, she noted that it was deep enough to require stitches but not deep enough that he would have permanent repercussions.

Hellman was now on the other side of the end of the table, finding the current angle she was at gave her a better vantage point for the stitching. She no longer had her back to James, and the two locked gazes for a moment before she began to thread her needle and get to work.

As her hands worked with the stitches, she happened to glance up, intrigued by what she saw; James wouldn't take his eyes off the men with her. At first she thought that the blood or excitement was sending him into an episode of some kind. But she then realized that it wasn't the injury he was watching or even just her working on it. It was the other men in the room, the guard, Bates, and no name, he was eyeing with extreme interest. His stare was intense and unyielding. He watched the trio with the fixation of an eagle about to snatch its prey. Lorelai, her mind in other places at the moment, couldn't tell if the agents knew they were being monitored. However, the actions that took place perhaps twenty minutes ago replayed in her mind, when the two had flinched visibly at James just standing, and she figured that was indeed the case.

However, _she_ was probably what the men had most to fear at the moment. Her wimp of a patient was getting on her last nerve, and as she finished the stitching she mused that there were many times Lorelai had to check herself throughout the procedure; while she wanted to be sympathetic to the pain the man was experiencing, he was a Hydra agent, a cold hearted militant, and ultimately, a jerk. Regardless of whether he was being extra snippy because he was in pain, she could tell that he was a real piece of work to begin with.

"Don't you have anything stronger?" he badgered her for the third time, apparently believing her to lying to him the first two times he asked.

Lorelai gave a rather heavy sigh.

"No, stronger meds haven't appeared since you asked me _again_ ten minutes ago. You want stronger stuff stocked here, write your local superior officer." She finished the stitching and tied up the end. "In fact, you don't need anything stronger, the next step up is an epidural." That may have been a little dramatic, but she needed to make a point.

"Whatever," the man scoffed, finding it pointless to keep going on with this argument, which it was. Lorelai wasn't in charge of stocking this room, and even if she was his pissy attitude wouldn't make her inclined to get on the task. Thankfully, her work with this group was complete.

"You're finished," she concluded, stretching out her spine from having been bent over for so long. "Rest the leg, keep the bandages on, and keep them dry for the next 24 hours. Then keep the wound clean with soap and water. Come back in two weeks so I can remove the stitches, but I _swear to god,_ if you come back here before then because of this injury, it better be because your leg is about to fall off. If you're really not sure if it's something to worry about, ask Rumlow, I'm sure he'll tell you what he thinks."

After sharing her keen medical wisdom with her patient, the doctor turned her back on the men as she picked up the bloodied tools she used and brought them to the nearby sink, dropping them in with lots of clanging. She began to run the water from the spigot which came up cold, so she allowed it to run for awhile as she grabbed cleaning supplies from below.

There was silence for all of about five seconds before no name suddenly piped up from behind.

"Why is he still here?" he asked, his voice quieting as his question progressed. His tone was more confused, inquisitive than anything else, not malicious or annoyed. Though confused by the delivery of his inquiry, Dr. Hellman didn't even glance up from washing her to answer the agent, feeling it was unnecessary to give him eye contact.

"Like I said, he's finished," she responded rather flatly as the water turned hot, praying quietly to herself the men would just vacate the room immediately. "You guys can take Princess Peach here back whenever-"

The injured man scoffed _again_ at his physician, making her head pop up from the view of the sink. "He means _him."_

Lorelai glanced over to see who he was gesturing too and was rather agitated to see that they was talking about James. The man was still sitting in his chair regarding the action in the room with quiet interest. He hadn't made a single noise the entire time the men were present. He had stayed to the wall during this entire experience, hardly noticeable, and yet the men who had come in and ruined her peaceful morning had the gall to question what _he_ was doing there.

When she looked over to James, the two locked eyes once again. Though he had obviously heard what the agent had said, he showed no signs of planning to retaliate in any way, which wasn't a surprise to her. He just sat there, continuing to take the verbal abuse. His lack of action sparked something in her. Lorelai wanted them to stop treating James like shit.

Shutting off the water, Lorelai could feel her blood pressure take on dangerous levels. Without truly realizing it, she picked up the pliers she had been using only minutes earlier, her grip of them tight.

"He gives me a lot less problems than you people do," the doctor bit back, an edge to her tone. "And _he_ is sitting right in front of you, so don't speak about him like he isn't here."

The room became silent, but not inactive. The injured started getting red in the face, though not due to embarrassment, it appeared. It would seem this confrontation was making his BP spike as well, and he looked _pissed_. Lorelai got the sense the man wasn't particularly passionate about the subject they were arguing; it was just that he didn't like being contended with. No name suddenly looked regretful he brought the subject up at all. Bates and the guard shared a nervous glance, unknowing of where this conflict was going.

"He is our _weapon,_ our tool to use _,"_ Lorelai's opponent snarled at her across the room, finally sitting up on his own for the first time, his 'unmanageable' pain suddenly forgotten. "It doesn't matter how he speak about him or _to him_ ; we can do _whatever_ we want. He fist of Hydra!"

"Oh, you're gonna get the fist of _something_ if you don't _shut up!_ " Lorelai practically howled at the man, wielding the bloodied pliers she had just used on him in his direction. She turned and looked Bates straight in the eyes, barely resisting the urge to bare her teeth. "Get him out of here before I _snap_."

"Scudder, come on, let's go," Bates began to urge his friend, grabbing him by the shoulder to try and move him along. He didn't want this scene to erupt any more than it already had. He looked up at Lorelai, who was still fuming and poised to spring. He didn't know much about this woman, but she was making him nervous. He didn't want to be the one responsible for shooting their newest doctor when Scudder really was making an ass of himself.

"If you really wanna help someone here, help yourself, Hellman," Scudder continued to ramble on, practically foaming at the mouth. The doctor didn't know if it had been all the emotions the man experienced today that drove him over the edge, or if he really just had that much of a god complex that he felt he should never be competed with. "Don't focus on a lost cause like that lunatic psycho-"

A deafening, crashing bang sounded throughout the room as Lorelai struck the pliers in her hand against the a metal podium sitting next to her. Everyone in the infirmary, save the doctor, flinched at the sound she had inflicted upon them, and the room continued to echo for many moments after with horrid sound. Luckily it did as she had intended; it shut the man up and saved her the trouble of _throwing_ the piers across the room at him. The agents before her all stared, mouths slightly gaped, more cautious.

"Leave now before I give you another reason to need medical attention."

The men began to police themselves, the guard and no name scrambling to get Scudder off the table. He might have had a little difficulty, but he was able to walk on his own, but that didn't seem to matter. They were prepared to carry him out of there the same way they carried him in.

"Scudder, _now,"_ no name hissed, all of them refusing to take no for an answer this time. It didn't seem to matter, however; Scudder didn't appear to have any more to say, thankfully. They got him off the table and with their assistance he hobbled to the door. They were all out of the room in a total of ten seconds.

The room was left to its two former occupants, and for a few seconds, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. That was until Lorelai emitted a deep, forceful roar into the infirmary, all her anger and exasperation from the events of the past 40 minutes leaving her body. This noise, unlike the ones previously heard in the room, alarmed James, making him slowly rise from his seat. The man hesitantly approached the pacing woman, watching her closely as she pulled at her hair and gritted her teeth. Her interactions with the agents here never failed to make her feel grimy and irritated.

" _These people!"_ she finally cried out verbally, kicking the side of a nearby cabinet, not with all her strength, but with enough to make a noise. "I have _never_ been surrounded by such cold-hearted, soulless _bastards,_ in my _life!_ This place is truly a hell hole. If I'm not waiting to be berated or yelled at, I'm waiting to be _shot_." She was still pacing back and forth wildly, not looking at James. He wasn't quite certain if she was speaking to him or herself. She appeared borderline hysteric. "Kidnap me and leave me here with nothing. At least give me a book, or a magazine or something. A freakin' newspaper. ' _Dr. Hellman, we've been stalking you for some time now. Take care of my shitty employees as we try and take over the world. Make one mistake and you'll be fertilizer for the botanical garden.'_ " Her voice had dropped as to imitate Pierce. "' _Rumlow, shoot her. Wait, Rumlow, don't shoot her. Let's see how I feel about shooting her tomorrow.'"_ She gave a deep, prolonged sigh. "God, this place is going to drive me-"

Lorelai paused upon feeling a hand rest on her shoulder. Remembering she wasn't alone in the room, she spun, and looked right into the eyes of James, his features soft and concerned. Upon seeing him standing there, his hand still resting on her shoulder as she recollected herself, her problems didn't seem so important. This man had been truly broken by Hydra. At the most she had been threatened, but no harm had yet come to her. The doc felt her cheeks tint red, embarrassment crashing over her.

"Look at me, complaining to you about this," she said softly, her shoulders slumping slightly, ashamed. She really felt bad. "I'm sorry. I'm not even thinking that you have it much worse here. These men are so _awful_ to you."

"I've heard worse from them."

That only proved her point. Her eyes hit the floor, suddenly sheepish.

"Why do you do that?" he inquired of her suddenly. Her eyes met his again.

"Do what?"

"Defend me."

"Just because you have to ask that question."

* * *

 _Hi everyone! I finally found some time this summer to get writing. Hopefully I'll be able to do some more of it before school starts. Please review and let me know what you think. Enjoy!_


	6. Stitch

The doctor wondered if she should start keeping a tally of her days on the wall like some cartoon character. For some reason she felt as though a count would make her feel better, feel as though time was actually passing as opposed her existence being one continuous, endless day. It would make her stay feel more accounted for. The only means she had of keeping track of her length of stay was James's calendar, something she didn't always have access to. Hellman had met with him three times already for scheduled visits, but those visits were almost equalled by the amount of off schedule visits she had to make due to his various on-base injuries. That also didn't include their unauthorized meetings, the ones that would get them up to their necks in shit if discovered.

Ultimately, all these encounters would indicate she had been there about ten days, more or less. Ten days, already two groups of tallies she could put a line through. She glanced halfheartedly at her medical bag on the floor, knowing she kept a Sharpie inside. However, no other muscle in her body moved to retrieve it. She didn't have the drive to do just about anything. She hadn't risen to get breakfast, not feeling hungry enough to leave the room. The doctor had been unneeded all morning, so she spent the time losing herself in her thoughts and staring at the ceiling, or lying on her bumpy cot sleeping. She had arrived at the stage of inactivity where she actually felt exhausted from doing so much of nothing. Additionally, she had no formal reason to visit James today; after all the time they spent together yesterday, she didn't want to risk being caught and receiving retaliation from someone. While her friend had the ability to sneak to her room unnoticed, she doubted she had the stealth to do the same.

Her door was currently open; about an hour or two before, having actually risen from her cot for a few moments, she left the entranceway ajar to try and let the stale air out of her room. The hallway had been rather inactive (just about as inactive as she had been) and she didn't find a reason to close it quite yet. She felt more suffocated than usual and assumed some circulation might do her good.

Lorelai could feel her eyes beginning to sag once more. The doctor felt no shame in this being her second nap that day, and her lids were about to close completely as she started to drift away...

"You've been asked for."

Lorelai rather ungracefully jolted from her bed, flailing her arms and legs from the scare she experienced. Her eyes now wide open, she stared at the company she was unaware had entered her space.

Rumlow was standing in her doorway, the previously ajar door now wide open, the man standing menacingly with his arms crossed. She swore he was casting a shadow on her as his eyes bore into her, his brow furrowed and his lips in a hard line. He seemed angry at her, even though she had yet to do anything to him that day. However, she was starting to realize that this was just his normal expression towards everyone, so she didn't have a particular need to feel worried just yet. From her point of view, he looked as big as the doorframe.

Beginning to recover from her initial fright and trying to regain some of her dignity, Lorelai slowly began to rise from her cot.

"You're gonna give me a heart attack moving around so quietly," she commented dryly, sitting up and positioning her body away from the agent. All feelings of sleep seemed to have left her, though she was a little stunned. She swung her legs around her cot.

Rumlow didn't seem to care about any cardiac issues she may experience from his light footing.

"You've been asked for," he repeated himself, his own tone unchanged from his previous statement.

"By who?" She was prepared for Pierce to be the one asking for her, and she would rather continue to watch the cracks form on her wall than go see that slimy man. Nevertheless she slipped on her shoes and reached for her bag, prepared to exit the room.

While his face held its permanent angry features, Rumlow's expression stayed somewhat neutral. But Lorelai could tell he was trying to hold something back. What it was, she wasn't very sure of.

"The Asset," he responded.

The statement had the young doctor practically springing in her seat, her whole demeanor changing as she tensed up. James asked for her? Lorelai tried conspicuously not to look too eager; she didn't want Rumlow getting the right idea that she wanted to see James. However, she felt a lump begin to form in her throat. What had happened that her friend actually did as she asked and requested her help? Bag in hand, she silently rose to her feet and stood before the agent, waiting for him to take the lead. After a final glance in her direction, the man turned away from her and exited out the door, the woman following closely behind.

There were two agents stationed outside the infirmary door when they arrived. Like the Red Sea they parted for Rumlow, still leading the pair, and he opened the door himself before strutting inside. The agent took a few large steps into the space and then stood to the side, allowing for the doctor to pass him. Lorelai paused for a moment as she took in the scene before her.

James was sitting on the metal bed in the middle of the room, watching as the new occupants of the room entered. Hellman met James's eyes immediately, sending about a hundred questions through a single gaze. James kept his own expression rather neutral, holding back his answers until they were alone. Lorelai then began to examine him from a distance, noting a how he clutched his left side with his right arm. She saw a shade of red on his white shirt, peeking out from under his hand, and felt a knot tie in her stomach.

Rumlow spoke then, his voice booming throughout the space as it echoed across the walls. The harsh intrusion effectively removed the doctor from her silent observations.

"Get him cleaned up," Rumlow commanded the doctor, not even looking in her direction. He instead kept his eyes locked on James, though the Asset's were on Lorelai. "He has a meeting with Pierce in two hours. I'll be back in one."

Without another word the man stomped out the door, passing the two others standing on either side of the entrance way. Though standing on the outside of the room, the door had been left open and they had a clear view inside. The pair seemed at a loss of what to do, whether to enter the room and stay with the woman as she worked, or stay outside. Lorelai decided to make the decision for them.

"Close the door," she turned and ordered the agents as they continued to gawk. The pair exchanged a glance, but after hesitating for a moment, one of them reached over and pulled the handle towards them. The door shut with a click.

When they were alone, her face whipped around towards her friend.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, rushing to his side, her concern rather evident on her features. She noted that blood was continuing to seep through his shirt. "Here, let me take a look."

The doctor gingerly reached over to take his wrist, and he allowed her to remove his hand from whatever he was shielding. She was immediately met with the angry red in its full force. His side clearly had an open wound, though she couldn't determine its true severity because of all the blood and his shirt, which were obstructing her view.

"Oh my god," she huffed, examining it for a few short moments before placing his wrist back on the area. "Keep your hand on it, I'll get some gauze." She turned to gather her bag, shuffling through her supplies before pulling out a pack of clean bandages. Additionally, she got up to retrieve a pitcher of water and a clean towel to clean the wound. "I need you to lay on your side, okay? It'll make it easier for me to work, but don't remove the pressure." James nodded in affirmation and made it to a horizontal position, never removing his hand from his side.

"I'm going to roll up your shirt, okay?" He nodded once more, allowing her to continue her work. The soldier removed his hand momentarily as she brought the cloth past his injury. She noted the way his body twitched as her fingers cupped under the material and rolled his shirt to just under his chest, but she had other things to tend to than to think too much into it. Her hands were probably just cold. "You can let your side go now, I've got a hold of it."

Cleaning the area and removing most of the blood, Lorelai was able to get a better view of the injury site. It was a deep laceration, not exactly a direct puncture, but a long cut with enough depth to require stitches. A serrated edge most likely used.

The room abruptly felt hotter.

"Is this a knife wound?" she demanded of the man on the table, her voice clearly agitated. As she questioned him, she took his wrist once more, placed a cloth in his hand, and positioned it over the wound so he could resume applying pressure himself. He glanced up at her as she left his side momentarily to rifle angrily through her bag. "What, just using you as a punching bag isn't good enough anymore?"

"Training exercises," he replied simply, keeping his eyes on her. He watched as she shook her head, infuriated.

Pulling out her needle and thread, and a vial of pain medicine, she cast him a grim glance. "I honestly don't know what to say to that." She left the side of the table for a moment to wash her hands, and then returned to unwrap the sterile materials and thread her needle. "You have to see me far too often, my friend. How're you feeling, how's the pain?"

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, a little awkwardly from his position on the table.

"Manageable."

The doctor chuckled.

"Considering you have a knife wound in your side, I don't believe you, but okay."

He glanced over at her to see her smiling at him, and he couldn't help but allow his phantom smirk to show as well. Lorelai then turned and began to fill a syringe with the pain medication, prepping to use it around his injury. She didn't notice that James never turned to look away from her, or that his expression had changed as he observed her.

"You won't need that," James spoke up, before she even finished filling the syringe.

The young doctor paused in her work, giving the man a confused glance.

"I'm about to stitch you up, it won't be very pleasant without this stuff."

He shook his head. "It won't matter. I burn it too quickly for it to work."

The explanation gave her pause. She was aware his metabolism made him go through medication much quicker, but she didn't consider it wouldn't allow for the pain medication to work at all. The realization truly bemused her. He needed the stitching, but she was uncomfortable with the thought of doing it under these conditions. She placed down the syringe and vial, at a loss of what to do. What _should_ she do? Administer some in the hopes it helps at least a little? Not administer it at all and save it for someone who could actually benefit from it?

Lorelai gave the man an unhappy look, great discomfort on her features.

"I've never stitched anyone without pain meds. That would be… awful..."

James wondered for a moment whether he should have told her or not. She was obviously feeling a lot of distress at the thought of hurting him, even to fix him, and he felt a deep discomfort knowing she felt such nervousness over him.

"It's okay, you can't do anything about it," he tried to reassure her.

An unknown force had him beginning to reach out towards her, trying to give her a comfort she had given him so many times now. But upon realizing what he was doing, especially since it was his metal arm that was extending to her, he retracted it. Though she had already proven herself to be unafraid of his enhancement, he was unwilling to test his limits. Also, he was unclear what made him do it in the first place.

The action didn't go unnoticed by the conflicted woman, neither the extension, retraction or the hesitation he displayed. In response, she reached over and took his metal hand in hers, giving it was squeeze. His eyes went from their joined hands to her eyes. She had a tight smile on her face.

"Okay," she responded. "I'll be as quick as I can."

With that, she released her grip, going to retrieve her thread and needle. James could still feel the warmth her hand left behind.

As promised, Lorelai began stitching James's side as quickly as she was able to without compromising her work, and as always, James was a trooper. Though his body reacted to the needle piercing his skin time and time again, his form tense and hands gripping the table, the man didn't make a single sound. The woman couldn't believe how well he was taking the whole situation, being that she was used to the usual indicators of discomfort being lots of complaining or yelling. However, Lorelai was unaware that on the contrary, James was not doing very well at all.

He felt entirely too warm, the Winter Soldier did, and lifting his head made the room and Lorelai spin around him. There was something about the stitching that was triggering him, almost as if there was a distance, unpleasant memory attached to the action, to the feel of this metal in his skin. Dealing with the pain wasn't a problem, but the feeling of the needle entering and exiting his skin stirred something in him, an anxiety he couldn't explain. Even knowing that Lorelai was the one stitching him couldn't ease the quiet angst he was experiencing. He could feel a dull ache forming in his left shoulder, where his flesh and metal arm connected. He wondered if his body remembered things from his past life his mind did not.

James almost felt as though he was having an out of body experience; he gripped the table tighter to find some kind of anchor. He tried to concentrate not on the needle, but on the feeling of Lorelai's other hand resting on his side to steady her stitching. Even throughout his episode, he couldn't forget the feeling of her skin on his, that she was still there with him.

In his distress, James opened his eyes for a moment, and he saw.. white. Though, not as if his vision was blurred, but as if something was falling gently from the ceiling… _snow._..

While it still took some time, the wound thankfully wasn't long enough to require a lot of work to be done. Finishing up, Lorelai victoriously discarded the used needle and cut the excess thread, and then dabbed the area with a moist cloth to clean the blood that still stained his skin.

"There, all finished," she announced after working in silence, examining her handiwork. James, still in a rather upset state, turned his head towards her, looking up at her through weary eyes. "I'll come back again tomorrow and check on how this is doing. Knowing you this will take a few days max to clear up. I'll be able to take the stitches out before you know it."

The doctor glanced with a smile over to the man, expecting the news to be well received. However, she noted immediately that while he had turned to acknowledge her, his face looked rather ashen, and a line of sweat was present across his forehead. He looked dazed.

"Hey, how're you doing?" she questioned him, concerned at his sickly appearance. She had made the mistake of believing his silence meant he had been doing fine over the course of the procedure.

"Tired," he answered groggily, not providing any more insight to his condition. James was surprised he could get that out. But no longer having the needle pierce his skin, the snow had disappeared, and he felt his body and his mind slowly becoming one again. However, he truly was worn out. While Lorelai could only imagine how exhausting being stitched without pain meds could be on the body, she could see the problem extended beyond that.

"Stay down, don't sit up," she commanded him, and he nodded slightly, his eyes closing for another moment. Quickly walking to the sink, she filled a cup with cold water and wetted a washcloth, then returned to the table and James's side.

Lorelai gently touched his shoulder, making this eyes open once more. "Here, take some smalls sips of this." She took his flesh hand and placed the cup in it. When he secured a grip, he did as he was told and drank, first taking small sips and then drinking a little more heavily. He didn't realize until then how thirsty he was. When he emptied the cup and placed his head back on the table, she took the washcloth and placed it over his forehead. James immediately felt relief from the cool fabric touching his hot head.

Lorelai leaned against the table looking down at the pale man. She felt so stupid; he may be unlike other patients she had, but he was still a man, capable of feeling pain. She was having difficulty finding the fine line of what he could and couldn't take. She hesitated for a moment, but a feeling in her chest overpowered her; she gently ran her fingers through James's hair in a comforting gesture, and continued to do this for a few moments. Was the action professional? Maybe not. But she knew their situation moved beyond professionalism. His opened his eyes to look up at her.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," she told him guiltily. "Are you feeling better?" He nodded, though still looking at her with a glazed look. "Okay. I'm gonna find you a clean shirt." The one he currently wore had a large, blood-stained hole on the side, and she had a feeling having him changed was a part of Rumlow's "get him cleaned up" directions.

After a few moments of the searching through various drawers, she was about to find another clean, white shirt for the man. Returning to the table, she set the clothing near his feet, but didn't intend for him to move just yet. She wanted him to rest for a bit longer before she had him trying to sit up.

"I think you should try and rest your eyes for a few minutes," the doctor told her patient. "Rumlow said he'd be back in an hour; I'd say you have at least half an hour to relax."

James would admit that a even of few minutes of sleep would probably benefit him then, especially since he was going to meet with Pierce in a short period of time. However, he didn't want to waste time spent with Lorelai either. He'd rather be injured and have a reason to see her than be unscaved and have to wait for one of their appointments. Also, he didn't want to wake up and find she wasn't there anymore.

As if seeing right through him, the doctor gave the man a gentle smile.

"I'm not going anywhere," she reassured him, reaching over to squeeze his flesh hand. In the back of her mind, she mused at how easily he took it in his own, but she was happy with the progress in trust they were making. "I'll wake you up before Rumlow gets here."

Then, too soon in James's opinion, she released his hand and left the side of the table, moving to look through more drawers on the other side of the room. Now that she was no longer there to look at, James did as instructed and closed his eyes. Almost immediately he began to drift, the darkness beckoning him to shut down his exhausted mind…

 _James was no longer in the infirmary. He was outside. He was moving quickly though standing still. He was alone._

 _Mountains were rushing past him, and snow was falling all around him as he continued to move along at an impossible speed, the wind moving through him. He looked down at his feet and finally realized his mode of transportation; he was standing atop a train moving steadily along the tracks. He had no problem keeping his balance as it continued on its journey. He seemed to be glued to the metal beneath his boots. The gazed in wonder for a moment at the sight before him. Mountains larger than skyscrapers topped with glistening snow… it was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before._

 _This definitely isn't Brooklyn anymore..._

 _He suddenly felt that he was no longer alone, eyes bearing into him from behind. He whipped around to face an unfamiliar man dressed in black clothing. James had never seen his man before, he was sure of it. The man had hollow eyes and a blank expression, and he didn't make a sound as he raised his arm towards James, a gun in hand. The soldier didn't have time to react. Before the Winter Soldier could move, this man pulled the trigger and a gunshot boomed throughout his ears._

 _James couldn't feel a bullet enter him. He looked down and couldn't even see an entry wound, no proof that he had been hit at all. However, he had begun to feel exceptionally cold. The sensation was creeping in his body like an ivy inside him, starting at the base of his spine and making its way upward. He began to breathe heavier, his vision clouding. And then, as if the floor had disappeared from beneath him, he started to fall..._

 _"BUCKY!"_

"James."

The soldier's eyes shot open immediately, his heart pounding in his chest. He flattened himself into the table, clinging to the solid surface he now found himself on. Instead of the white of snow blinding him, it was now the brightness of the light situated above him, and after a few seconds he could feel his fear subsiding. However, his heart continued to beat more forcefully than he would have liked.

"How're you feeling? Better?"

He looked to his side, and there Lorelai was standing over him, a small smile on her face. She obviously wasn't aware of his inner conflicts. Besides his new uneasiness, he was no longer suffering from his earlier aliment. The room was no longer spinning around him and the nausea in his abdomen had ceased. He nodded to the woman.

"Well enough to sit up?" she questioned him, wanting to be sure. He nodded once more. "Okay, let's get you up then. Rumlow'll be back soon."

Mostly on his own accord, James sat up from the table, Lorelai keeping her hand on this back to make sure he was steady. She gave him another look over to make sure he was truly showing signs of improvement and he wasn't just trying to appease her, and she immediately noted that his color had returned and he was no longer sweating. The doctor handed the man the clean t-shirt she had found earlier and turned away to give him a moment of privacy while he changed. When he was ready, she collected his torn, bloodied shirt, not quite she was what to do with it. However, when she spotted a waste can in the corner of the room, she figured that was best place for the ruined clothing. She walked over to the basket to put the shirt in its final resting place.

Lorelai had just thrown the shirt in away when Rumlow all but barreled into the infirmary, making the woman jump out of her skin from across the room. James just sat motionless on the table, the sudden entrance not startling him.

Rumlow bore his eyes into the scene in front of him, looking for any sign of disorder. When the soldier had requested the presence of the doctor, a red flag went off in the agent's mind. The soldier had never requested assistance from one of the doctors before, and the injury he sustained, while not minor, wasn't the worse he had had from the hands of other agents. He couldn't form an explanation for it. However, he saw his asset sewed up, no long bleeding, and wearing a clean shirt, indicating that all his tasks had been performed as ordered. The doctor was standing motionlessly on the other side of the room, staring at Rumlow like a rabbit eyeing a hawk, trying to remain unnoticed. There was nothing to make him suspicious. That didn't make the suspicion leave him.

"Let's go," he commanded stiffly to James, not verbally acknowledging Lorelai's work or presence in the room. He exited without another word, the sound of his boots echoing off the walls as he disappeared.

James arose from the table and began to follow Rumlow, pausing for a moment to look over at the woman. The two locked eyes. Lorelai gave him a small smile and nodded, knowing he had to leave immediately. He nodded as well but didn't share his phantom smirk, unhappy with his sudden exit. He then turned away and left the room himself.

Lorelai was alone.

* * *

A day had passed and it was late. Dr. Hellman was lying on her cot, exhausted, but this time for reasons other than doing nothing all day. Today had been unreasonably eventual. First, a fight had broken out between three agents, and the injuries they sustained weren't mere scratches and bruises. One of the men had a dislocated shoulder, another a badly busted face. The third was better off than the other two, but still had a long laceration going down the side of his face which needed tending to. Apparently many of the agents present had let the situation play out before they intervened, and by then a good amount of damage had been done. She had to treat all them back to back, and at one point, two of them had broken out fighting _again,_ the first altercation apparently not giving the satisfaction they were looking for. Lorelai had to call in agents passing by to help break the pair up, not daring to do it herself. She didn't know what the fight had been about, and didn't care enough to find out. The whole ordeal lasted a few hours, partly because none of them were very good patients, but especially because most of her work had been undone when the two started going at it again.

Them, along with another agent coming in with injuries from a training incident, had her beat. It was by far the most effort she had had to put into her job since being brought to the base, however she had to admit she'd rather it be this way. Boredom for her was much more tortuous than being busy.

She hadn't seen James, not that she was expecting to. She wondered how his meeting with Pierce had went. The thought of meeting with that slimey man made her skin crawl, but she had a feeling he was able to fair much better in those situations than she could. At first she wondered what the meeting was about, however, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she probably didn't want to know. While she knew James wasn't the mindless monster the men on this base would have her believe, she wasn't disillusioned with what he was capable of doing.

The doctor was lying on her side, staring at the wall she couldn't see because her lights were already turned off. The door to her room was closed, and every once in awhile she would hear the sound of boots walking by, echoing off the walls. Her heart would begin to beat a little faster, assuming they were coming to get her, but then the steps would continue on, leaving her alone. She had already showered and prepared herself for the night, so she was just waiting, hair damp, sweatpants on, for some we deserved sleep to overtake her.

A knock sounded on the door, making the woman's eyes snap open. She wasn't startled exactly, but confused that she hadn't heard any of those footsteps come to the door before the knock. She groaned internally, assuming it was the light footed Rumlow again. However, as she rose to her feet and turned the lights on, she wondered why Rumlow's knock would be so gentle…

Lorelai opened the door and surprised to find James in the hallway, dressed in his normal garb of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He stood there with his back straight, his hands at his sides, unmoving like a statue before her. The only indication that there was life in him was how his eyes seemed to light up upon seeing her in the doorway. His appearance at her room startled her more than the knock itself, truly not believing it would be him at the door. It took her a moment to collect herself, and when she finally recovered, she assumed something was wrong.

"Hey, you good?" she finally asked him, taking him by the arm and ushering him into her room. She didn't want to take the chance of anyone seeing him there. She glanced into the hallway for a moment before quickly and quietly closing the door. She turned to him. "Is everything okay? Here sit down-"

"I can't stay," he answered her, declining her offer. Then, without another word, he pulled an object out of the wide pocket of this pants and handed it wordlessly to her.

Lorelai was rather surprised at the offer, and took it cautiously while giving him a confused smile. She genuinely had no idea what he could have had for her.

"What's this?" she questioned him. Not waiting for an answer, she turned it over and felt her chest beginning to get a little tighter.

 _To Have and Have Not_ was the title of the novel in her grasp, a work by Ernest Hemingway she had heard of before, but didn't know anything about. It was a paperback version of decent size, and well worn by the looks of it. She felt her grip on the object tighten. One of her simplest wishes had been granted. A book. Something to pass her time on base that didn't involve her staring at a wall or falling to sleep. Lorelai looked up at James with eyes wide and mouth gaped.

"You got me a book?" she questioned him, her voice was barely above a whisper she was in so much shock. "Where did you…" She let her own question die out and looked through the first pages, as if she didn't believe it was real.

James didn't respond and only continued to look down at her, unsure of what to do next. He shifted in his stance uncomfortably. Not that he would explain, but the book was from Pierce's home bookshelf. His meetings between Pierce and himself almost always took place at his home, late at night when he was the only one there and James could come in undetected. When they concluded, Pierce always had James see himself out, simply leaving the room and heading to bed. After last night's meeting when Pierce had departed, James was about to leave the residence when he spotted the bookshelf in the corner of the room. Upon noticing it, Lorelai's defeated comments began circling his mind, and he quickly decided that she needed it more than Pierce did. Without any hesitation, he grabbed a book at random, not even reading to see what the title was, and exited the director's home.

But James didn't need to react. After a moment of trying and failing to compose herself, Lorelai stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, startling him. She hugged him closely, still in a slight state of shock. She never would have believed he would think of her this way and take the time to bring her this.

"Thank you," she breathed into his chest, tightening her grip on him every so slightly.

The doctor wasn't upset when the soldier didn't return her embrace. She honestly wasn't expecting him to. But she needed him to know how grateful she was for the small act that for a little while would make life here even that smallest bit more bearable. After a moment, she released him.

She began to examine the book on all its surfaces, reading over the cover, the spine, and flipping through the first couple of pages, seeing just want her friend had brought her. All the while, James was still standing in the exact place she left him, the man suddenly very warm. He found himself unable to shake the feeling of her arms around him and her body so close to his. He watched her cheerfully study his gift for a few moments. He felt pleased to have made her so happy.

* * *

 _I forget when I said I would originally get this out, but here we are. This chapter was supposed to be about 8000 words but I decided to save the next part for the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy. Until next time!_


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